#and didn't understand romance or sexuality at ALL | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mononijikayu · 30 days ago

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pillowtalk — fushiguro toji.

So one evening, when the house is peaceful and the two of you are sitting together, watching Megumi’s small chest rise and fall as he sleeps, Toji finally lets the words slip out. “Do you think… Megumi’s lonely?” His voice is soft, almost tentative. He’s not used to sounding uncertain, but this feels like new territory for him. “Like, maybe he’d do better with a sibling?” The question hangs in the air, unspoken emotions carried within it, waiting for your response.

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence!;

WARNING/S: fluff, romance, nsfw, r-18, smut, rough sex, breeding kink, overstimulation, body praise, kissing, p-i-v sex, fingering, pet names (baby, babe, wife, mama, etc), profanity, love, humor, light-hearted, married life, being in love, sexual intercourse, slice of life, domestic life, family, depictions of sexual acts, depiction of body praise, depiction of naked bodies, mention of sexual innuendo, mention of sexual intercourse, husband! toji, mamaguro! reader;

WORD COUNT: 7k words

NOTE: i think about how mamaguro was taken too soon from toji and megumi and how maybe they were thinking about wanting another kid and just how domestic their life was. i like to think about toji!househusband too fr. like if there was a character that could be the way of the househusband, it would be fushiguro toji, thank you. thank you for listening to my tedtalk!!! anyway, i love you all <3

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kinktober 2024 - kayu's version

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HIS LIFE NOW WAS A FAR CRY FROM HIS OLD LIFE. Toji Fushiguro never thought he'd find peace, much less happiness. His life had been a series of battles, betrayals, and constant survival. But then you came along, softening the sharp edges of his world, bringing warmth where there had only been cold.

He remembers the day he first saw you. It was as if the world had found itself in a tailspin and he was in it. His world changed when you came into his life. Everything felt like it was worth finding wonder in.

With how you looked at him with eyes full of understanding, tenderness. There was nothing of pity or grievance. There was always warmth. Warmth he didn't think he would ever deserve. Somehow, you'd seen something in him worth saving, something worth loving.

You gave him a family, a real family—not just in the blood that runs through his veins but in the small, everyday moments that fill the spaces between. You gave him everything he could ever want. Everything that he thought could only be achieved in dreams.

Mornings over coffee, the sunlight streaming through the kitchen window, your laugh echoing softly through the room. The gentle way you cradle your son, Megumi, in your arms, whispering stories to him with a voice so full of love it makes Toji’s chest ache in the best possible way.

Every time he looks at Megumi, he feels a rush of gratitude so overwhelming it almost brings him to his knees. Your son has his eyes, that piercing gaze that cuts through the nonsense of the world, but he has your smile, that Toji was sure of. He was just as much happy about it too.

When he looked at Megumi, he could find that small, quiet curve that seems to promise the universe that all will be well. It was waiting for him on his son's beautiful face as much as it was on your own beautiful lips.

Fushiguro Toji never thought he’d care so much about something so trivial, but here he is, caring more than he ever imagined possible. His son's smile brought him as much joy to see as it does when you too smile at him.d

He watches Megumi toddling around the living room, his tiny hands grasping at the air as he learns to walk, determination etched on his face. Toji's heart swells with a fierce kind of pride.

In moments like these, he understands what people mean when they talk about the best things in life. It’s not the money, the power, or the next fight to win. It’s his son’s first steps, the weight of your hand in his, the soft, steady rhythm of your breathing beside him at night.

You've given him a home—not just a house with walls and a roof but a place where he feels like he belongs, where he isn't running from shadows or haunted by the ghosts of his past. A place where, for the first time in his life, he feels like he deserves to stay.

Toji never thought he’d be here, never thought he’d be the kind of man who could love so deeply, who could feel so much. But you changed that. You changed everything. And as he stands there, watching Megumi, he knows that this right here, right now is the happiest he’s ever been.

Toji’s gaze shifts from Megumi to you, who are quietly watching the two of them with a serene smile. Your presence brings a calm to the chaos that once defined his life. The way you hold Megumi’s tiny hand as he wobbles toward you, the soft encouragement in your voice, it all creates a sanctuary that Toji never thought he’d find.

In the evenings, when the world quiets down and the house is bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun, Toji often finds himself reflecting on how far he’s come. He thinks about the days when his future seemed so uncertain, when the idea of a family felt like an impossible dream. Now, every moment spent with you and Megumi feels like a precious gift, a beautiful reality he’d only dared to hope for.

As Megumi eventually collapses into a giggling heap on the floor, Toji chuckles softly. You come over and join them, your laughter mingling with his as you all enjoy the simple joy of being together.

Toji sits back and watches, his heart full. He thinks about the sacrifices he’s made and the battles he fought. Each scar, each hard-earned lesson, has led him to this moment—the sweetest victory of all.

In the quiet moments, when it’s just the three of you, Toji often finds himself lost in thought. He marvels at how you’ve created a life filled with warmth and love, and how Megumi is growing up surrounded by everything he never had.

He realizes that his past, with all its pain and darkness, was worth it for the chance to build this future with you. He feels a profound sense of gratitude, not just for what you’ve given him, but for the strength and resilience you’ve shown in building this family together.

When he tucks Megumi into bed at night, he’s reminded of the importance of the little rituals. The way Megumi’s eyes flutter closed as Toji reads him a bedtime story, the way he clings to the small toy you both picked out together, and the peaceful sigh he gives as he drifts off to sleep. Toji knows that these moments are fleeting, but they are precious.

As he stands by the doorway, watching over his sleeping son, Toji reaches out and takes your hand. You squeeze it gently, a silent promise of the love and support you’ve always given him. He turns to you, his eyes reflecting the depth of his feelings.

“I never thought I’d have a life like this.” he says softly, his voice filled with emotion. “You’ve given me everything I never knew I needed. I don’t know how to thank you, but I hope you know how much you mean to me.”

You smile, your eyes glistening with love and understanding. “You don’t have to thank me. This our family, our home, its all I ever wanted too. We’ve created something beautiful together, and that’s more than enough.”

Toji wraps his arm around you, pulling you close as he gazes once more at the peaceful scene before him. In that moment, he knows that he has everything he could ever ask for. The life he shares with you and Megumi is his greatest achievement, his greatest joy. And as he holds you close, he realizes that this is exactly where he’s meant to be—home.

The nights are often filled with a gentle stillness, punctuated only by the soft sounds of Megumi’s breathing as he sleeps. Toji finds these quiet moments to be some of the most precious. He cherishes the tranquility that envelops your family, feeling as though he’s finally found his place of peace after years of turmoil.

In the early mornings, when the first light of dawn filters through the curtains, Toji enjoys watching you and Megumi. He loves the way you wake up with a soft smile, the kind that says everything is right in the world.

As you prepare breakfast, Toji often stands by, watching with admiration. You move through the routine with an ease and grace that mesmerize him, the way you hum a soft tune or how you softly chat with Megumi, turning the mundane into something magical.

Mornings are Toji’s favorite time to bond with his son. He takes Megumi in his arms, holding him close as he prepares to start the day. They play together, their laughter filling the room with an infectious joy that makes Toji’s heart swell.

He sees so much of you in Megumi; Everything he loves about you blossomed in your beautiful son. Megumi had the same curious eyes, the same warm smile—and it makes him fall in love with both of you all over again.

On weekends, the family often goes on small adventures. Whether it’s a stroll through the park, a visit to a nearby museum, or a picnic by the river, Toji treasures these outings.

He loves seeing the world through Megumi’s eyes, watching as his son discovers new things and experiences the simple joys of life. He takes pride in being a part of these moments, knowing that he’s helping to create cherished memories for his family.

At night, after Megumi is asleep and the house quiets down, Toji and you find time to connect. These moments of solitude are a chance to share your thoughts and dreams, to reflect on the day and plan for the future.

The conversations are often deep and meaningful, touching on everything from hopes and fears to the little details of daily life. It’s in these conversations that Toji feels most connected to you, realizing how deeply you understand and support him.

Sometimes, Toji thinks back to the days when his life was filled with chaos and uncertainty. He can’t believe how far he’s come, how much he’s changed. And every time he looks at you or Megumi, he’s reminded of just how much he’s gained. The family he’s built with you is a testament to the love and resilience you both share.

As he drifts off to sleep beside you, Toji feels a profound sense of contentment. The days are filled with laughter and love, the nights with peace and connection. He knows that his past is behind him, that he’s finally found the life he was meant to have.

In the quiet darkness, Toji holds you close, grateful for the life you’ve created together. He’s found something he never thought possible—a home, a family, and a love that makes everyday worth living.

And as he whispers a quiet “thank you” into the night, he knows that the greatest gift he’s ever received is the love and happiness you and Megumi have brought into his life.

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HE REALLY THINKS THIS IS THE BEST LIFE ANYONE CAN ASK FOR. Fushiguro Toji enjoys the life you’ve built together. He really does. But lately, a thought has been lingering in his mind, one that keeps surfacing during the quiet moments.

He wonders if maybe life would be even better, fuller—if you and he were to give Megumi a sibling. It’s not that he doesn’t love the way things are now. Ever since Megumi was born, everything shifted naturally; your priorities changed, and together, you’ve navigated this new life of parenthood seamlessly.

But still, Toji can’t help but worry. Megumi is growing up fast—already past his first birthday and nearing his second. He’s independent in his own quiet way, rarely showing interest in playing with other kids when given the chance. Toji wonders if maybe it’s because Megumi feels a little lonely, being an only child.

Toji doesn’t voice these thoughts out loud often, but they weigh on his mind. You’ve both done well to balance your lives, your love, and your responsibilities. But he imagines another child, a little sibling for Megumi—someone to share those quiet afternoons and keep him company.

Maybe it’s time to think about it, he muses. After all, family has always been at the center of his thoughts, and adding to yours feels like the natural next step.

Your husband hasn’t brought it up yet, not directly. It’s hard for him to find the right moment, the right words. He’s not one for long conversations or deep discussions, but you know him well enough to notice when something is on his mind.

Lately, he’s been watching Megumi more closely, observing the way your son plays quietly by himself, content in his little world but lacking the spark of excitement that other kids seem to find when surrounded by their peers.

He’s seen it when you’re both at the park, Megumi clinging to your leg instead of running around with the other children. He doesn’t push it—Megumi is still young, and Toji knows better than anyone that everyone moves at their own pace.

But the nagging thought remains: maybe what Megumi needs isn’t just more playdates or time with other kids. Maybe he needs someone at home, a sibling to grow up with, to bond with. Someone who’ll always be there, someone who’ll understand him in a way only a sibling can.

In those quiet moments when the house is calm, and Megumi is tucked away in bed, Toji imagines what it might be like. The sounds of laughter from another room, two pairs of small feet running down the hallway.

The way you’d smile, holding another little one in your arms. The thought makes him feel warm, something he doesn’t experience often. It’s not just about Megumi anymore, he knows that too well. It’s also about the life you’re building, the family you’ve already started. And deep down, he knows he wants to keep growing it.

Still, he wonders how you’ll feel about it. You’ve both been so focused on Megumi, on making sure he’s happy and cared for. Will you think it’s too soon? Will you worry about the shift it would cause in your lives again, the added responsibility?

These thoughts swirl in his mind as he considers how to approach the subject. He doesn’t want to push, but the desire is there, quietly persistent, tugging at him with each passing day.

So one evening, when the house is peaceful and the two of you are sitting together, watching Megumi’s small chest rise and fall as he sleeps, Toji finally lets the words slip out.

“Do you think… Megumi’s lonely?” His voice is soft, almost tentative. He’s not used to sounding uncertain, but this feels like new territory for him. “Like, maybe he’d do better with a sibling?”

The question hangs in the air, unspoken emotions carried within it, waiting for your response.

You pause for a moment, taking in Toji’s words. It’s not a question you expected, but knowing him, you realize this has been on his mind for a while. His concern for Megumi is clear, and the idea of giving your son a sibling is something you’ve thought about before, though not as seriously. But now, hearing it from Toji, you realize it’s more than just a passing thought—it’s a real possibility.

You glance over at Megumi, fast asleep in his crib, peaceful and unaware of the weight of this conversation. He’s always been a quiet, introspective child, and it’s true—he doesn’t seem to enjoy the company of other kids all that much.

Your little boy is happy to be around you both, that was true enough. He always loves spending time with you both. But with other kids? It's a tough crowd when it comes to your little boy.

But you’ve always assumed he’d grow out of it, that he’d find his own way to connect. Still, there’s a small part of you that wonders if Toji is right. Maybe Megumi is lonely, and maybe the best thing for him would be to have a sibling to share his life with.

You shift closer to Toji, resting your head against his shoulder. “I don’t know, baby.” you admit softly. “Maybe. He does seem to keep to himself a lot… but he’s still so young. Do you really think a sibling would make a difference?”

Toji lets out a low sigh, his arm wrapping around you as he considers his words. “I think it could. I mean, I didn’t grow up with much family, and I turned out…” He trails off, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Well, let’s just say I don’t want that for Megumi. He deserves more.”

You smile at his attempt to lighten the mood, but the thought lingers in your mind. Toji’s childhood was different—lonely in a way that you know he doesn’t talk about often. Maybe that’s why this means so much to him. Maybe he wants Megumi to have something he never did.

“You think we’re ready for that?” you ask, glancing up at him. It’s a big decision, one that would change everything, again. But there’s something comforting about the idea, too. “I mean with how busy we are and Megumi…”

You’ve seen Toji with Megumi, the way he’s softened since becoming a father. And you love it. More than anything, it was what you think that fulfilled your life — making Toji a father and building a family. him.

But you haven’t thought about it just yet. But now that you’re thinking about it….the thought of adding another little one to your family, watching Toji bond with another child, feels right in a way that you hadn’t fully realized until now.

Toji meets your gaze, his expression more serious now. “I think we are. It’s not gonna be easy, but nothing ever is, right? We made it work with Megumi, and we’ll make it work again.”

His confidence reassures you, and the weight of the decision starts to feel less overwhelming. You’re not just thinking about yourselves anymore; you’re thinking about Megumi and the family you’re building together.

You lean into him, letting his warmth and the quiet of the evening wrap around you both. “Okay, okay….” you say softly, the decision settling into your chest. “Let’s think about it. For Megumi. For us.”

Toji presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice full of something deeper than just words. “For all of us.”

But thinking was one thing. Acting on it, especially when the two of you were so deeply drawn to each other—was something entirely different. Whenever the subject of expanding your family surfaced in conversation, it wasn’t long before the connection between you and Toji shifted into something more intense, more immediate.

There was an undeniable pull between you, something that seemed to ignite in the quiet moments when you were alone together, reminding you just how much you desired one another.

It would often happen in the evening, after a long day of work. The two of you would settle into the comfort of your apartment, exhaustion slipping away as you relaxed on the couch after dinner.

Toji would always keep you close, one arm draped over your shoulders, his hand absently tracing patterns on your skin. The world outside would fade as you settled into your quiet bubble, just the two of you in the stillness of the night.

And then, it would happen slowly at first, with a shared glance, a quiet breath, and the unspoken understanding that there was something deeper simmering beneath the surface.

Toji, always so sure in his movements, would gently guide you from the couch to the soft embrace of the bed, laying you down against the pillow with deliberate care, as if you were something precious. His hands would roam, teasing and familiar, as he removed your clothes piece by piece, his fingers gliding over your skin like he’d memorized every inch of you.

By the time his hand slid between your thighs, you were already lost to him, to the way he touched you with a practiced skill that sent shivers down your spine. His fingers worked their way inside you, slow and deliberate at first, drawing out every bit of pleasure as your body responded to him.

The feeling was electric, the tension between you mounting with each passing second. Toji’s gaze was fixed on you, dark and focused, as if nothing else in the world mattered but the way you were falling apart beneath his touch.

You couldn’t think about anything else in those moments, not about the future or about giving Megumi a sibling. All you could focus on was the sensation of Toji’s fingers moving inside you, the heat of his body pressed against yours, and the sound of your breath hitching in your throat as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

Toji knew exactly what he was doing. He always did. The way he touched you, the way he whispered your name in that low, gravelly voice; it drove you wild, leaving you breathless and aching for more. You were wrapped up in him, in the way his fingers curled inside you, his thumb brushing over your most sensitive spot with a precision that made your head spin.

Your back arched, hips instinctively rolling against his hand as the pleasure built, your thoughts scattered in every direction except the present moment. Toji’s lips found your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered, “You’re all mine,” his voice thick with want.

And in that moment, you were. Completely, entirely his. The rest of the world faded away, and all that mattered was the feeling of being lost in him, your body responding to his touch as you let go of everything except the pure, unadulterated pleasure he gave you.

Toji’s fingers moved with a deliberate intensity, his pace quickening as he watched you unravel beneath him. His focus was sharp, every movement calculated to drive you closer to your limit.

You couldn’t hold back the sounds that escaped you—soft gasps, whispers of his name, every noise pulling him deeper into his need for you. His lips brushed against your skin, kissing along your neck, while his other hand gripped your waist, holding you in place as your body arched against him.

"That's it, baby." he murmured, voice rough and low. The heat between you was almost unbearable, the air thick with the tension that always seemed to surge whenever you were alone together.

He was lost in you, in the way your body responded to his touch. His fingers curled inside you, hitting just the right spot that made your breath catch, your hips instinctively lifting toward him as the pressure built in your core.

You were so close, the pleasure winding tight within you, and Toji could sense it. His thumb circled your clit with just the right amount of pressure, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through you.

"You’re gonna come for me, aren’t you?" he whispered, his lips grazing your ear, the command in his voice leaving no room for anything else. "Let go. I’ve got you."

And just like that, the tension inside you snapped. Your body tensed, then released in a flood of warmth and sensation, a wave of pleasure crashing over you as you cried out, hands clutching at the sheets beneath you.

Toji’s fingers didn’t stop, drawing every last bit of pleasure from you as he held you through it, his lips pressed against your skin, murmuring soft, unintelligible words of praise.

Your body trembled beneath him, the aftershocks of your orgasm still pulsing through you as you tried to catch your breath. Toji slowly withdrew his fingers, but his touch remained gentle, his hand trailing softly along your thigh as he looked down at you, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“You’re perfect like this, baby.” he said quietly, almost to himself. His hand moved to brush a strand of hair away from your face, his eyes softening as they met yours. “Always so damn perfect.”

Your body is still coming down from the high when you look at him, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin as he hovers above you, his smirk deepening. There's a glint in his eyes, that unmistakable fire, as if the conversation you’d had earlier is still echoing in the back of his mind.

You don’t even have to think too hard about it; it’s like an instinct when you tell him, voice breathless, “I want to give you a baby again.”

Toji’s grin widens, his brow arching slightly. “Oh, is that right?” he teases, his hand trailing lazily down your side, lingering on your hip. But then he leans in closer, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “What’s stopping you then, huh?”

You shake your head vigorously, letting out a soft hum of disagreement, not entirely trusting his intentions. Toji’s always been a dirty fucking liar when it comes to things like this, promising things he knows will make you weak, things you know he’ll never deliver on.

Yet somehow, even knowing that, you still find it in yourself to love him. And maybe that's why, despite everything, you still let him have you like this, completely bare, letting him slide into you raw, no barriers between you.

He wastes no time, pushing your legs back, your knees nearly pressed up to your chest as he thrusts into you. The intensity is overwhelming, each deep stroke driving you further into the mattress, making your body shake under his relentless pace.

Toji's grip is strong, controlling, one hand pinning your thigh back as the other rests on your waist, holding you in place like he owns you. And in these moments, it feels like he does.

He has a hold on you in ways you can’t quite explain, two different kinds of control—one physical, the other something deeper, emotional, binding you to him in a way that’s undeniable.

“You’re really getting into it huh, sweetheart?” His voice drips with mock sweetness, but there’s a dark edge to it, each word paired with a heavy, punishing thrust that knocks the breath out of you. “You want me to fill up that sweet little belly?”

His words are a tease, malicious in the way only Toji can be, his voice laced with cruel affection. His grin matches it, sharp and selfish, as if he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, how every filthy promise pushes you closer to the brink. Your mind is spinning, caught between wanting to resist and wanting to give in completely.

Then, his pace slows slightly, his hand gripping your jaw as he forces you to look up at him, his gaze locking with yours. The teasing drops, replaced with something far more commanding. His eyes burn with an intensity that makes your stomach flip, and his voice, low and rough, sends shivers down your spine.

“Gimme fuckin’ words, baby.” he growls, his tone leaving no room for disobedience. “I need words.”

Your breath hitches, the weight of his command settling heavy in the pit of your stomach. You know what he’s asking for—he needs to hear it from you, needs the affirmation that you’re his, that you want this just as much as he does. His pace haughtily picks up again, a merciless rhythm, every thrust driving deeper as he waits for your response.

“I—” you try to catch your breath, your voice shaky as you struggle to form the words. But the sensation is too much, the way he’s filling you, stretching you, making it hard to think about anything but the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body. “I want you,” you finally manage, voice barely above a whisper.

Toji’s dark green eyes narrow slightly, unsatisfied with your answer. He grabs your chin harder, his pace growing even more ruthless. “That’s not enough, baby.” he growls, his voice a dangerous rasp. “Tell me. What do you want?”

Your mind is foggy, body trembling beneath him, and you can feel yourself on the edge again, teetering close to the point of no return. His dominance over you in this moment is absolute, and you can’t fight it, can’t resist the pull of his command.

“I want you to fill me up, babe.” you finally gasp, your words spilling out in a rush, almost desperate. “I want your baby, Toji.”

His response is immediate, a low, satisfied groan rumbling from his chest as he picks up the pace, driving into you with a newfound intensity.

“That’s my good girl right there, hm?” he growls, his grip tightening as he slams into you with brutal force, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You’re gonna take all of me, aren’t you? Gonna let me give you exactly what you asked for.”

Your body answers for you, already falling apart beneath him as his words send you spiraling into another wave of pleasure. Every thrust pushes you deeper into the mattress, your legs shaking, your breath ragged as Toji takes what’s his, just like he always does.

And even through the haze of pleasure, you know there’s no escaping him. Toji has you—mind, body, and soul—and there’s nothing you wouldn’t give him, nothing you wouldn’t do for him.

Toji’s grip on you tightens as the intensity between you both heightens. His hips slam into yours with an unrelenting force, each thrust harder and deeper than the last, driving you closer to the edge with every movement.

Your husband was too good at playing this game of pleasure. You were hanging on for dear life, stuck in a pleasurable pandemonium. The rough rhythm of his body against yours, combined with the filthy words spilling from his mouth, sends shockwaves through your entire being.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby.” he growls, his voice dark with possession. “You’re gonna let me fill you up, huh? Make you mine all over again, just like you want.”

You can barely form coherent thoughts as your body responds to him, legs trembling with the sheer force of his thrusts. The sounds of your shared breathing, the slap of skin against skin, and the creak of the mattress fill the room, an unspoken rhythm between you two that’s as primal as it is intimate.

You’re completely at his mercy, pinned beneath him, helpless to do anything but feel. This man occupies everything in you as easily as you breathe. And you wanted him. You wanted more of him.

“Toji—” you gasp, his name leaving your lips like a prayer, your nails digging into his shoulders, holding on to him for dear life. Your whole world narrows down to this moment, the heat of his body on yours, the way he’s completely taken over your senses.

He releases one of your legs, shifting slightly to lean down, his lips brushing against your ear, hot and heavy with every breath. “You’re gonna take all of it, aren’t you?” he murmurs, his tone laced with both a command and a dark kind of affection. “Every last drop.”

His words send a jolt through you, pushing you closer to the edge you’ve been teetering on. The pressure builds inside you, winding tight in your belly, threatening to snap at any second. And Toji knows it. He can feel the way your body clenches around him, the way your breath hitches with every thrust.

“Say it again, baby.” he demands, his pace somehow growing even more brutal, hips pounding into you relentlessly. “Tell me what you want.”

Your heart races, and it takes everything in you to gasp out the words between broken breaths. “I want you to fill me up… I want your baby, Toji, please—” Your voice is desperate, the plea tumbling out before you can stop it.

The satisfaction in his eyes is unmistakable, his lips curving into a wicked grin as he growls in response. “Good girl.”

And with that, he pushes you over the edge. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing beneath him as the pleasure crashes through you, wave after wave, your voice breaking as you cry out.

Toji doesn’t stop, his thrusts driving deeper, harder, drawing every last bit of pleasure from you until you’re left trembling, barely able to catch your breath.

He’s close too; you can feel it in the way his movements grow more erratic, his grip on your hips tightening as he chases his own release. He lets out a low, guttural moan, his pace faltering for a moment before he slams into you one final time, his hips flush against yours as he fills you completely, the warmth of him spilling deep inside you.

Toji’s body goes tense for a brief second, and then he collapses against you, his breath ragged and heavy as he rides out the last waves of his release. His hand moves to brush a strand of hair from your face, his eyes softened now, the intense fire in them dimmed into something more tender.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, still holding you close, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. “You’re perfect, perfectttt. Just like that, baby.” he murmurs, his voice quieter now, the raw edge gone. “Every damn time.”

You’re still catching your breath, your body exhausted but sated, the warmth of him pressed against you grounding you in the moment. There’s something comforting in the way he holds you after, a quiet reassurance that, despite his teasing and rough exterior, there’s a deep connection between you both that runs far beyond words.

Toji’s body stays pressed against yours, his breathing still heavy as he recovers from the intensity of what you just shared. The room feels warm, the quiet between you filled with the soft sounds of your breathing, the lingering sensation of him still deep inside you. For a moment, it’s peaceful, like you’re both floating in the afterglow.

But that peace doesn’t last long.

You feel him stir against you, his lips brushing over your skin, trailing soft kisses along your collarbone. His hand slides over your waist, fingers tracing lazy circles on your bare skin. There’s a shift in the air, a subtle change in his energy that you recognize immediately. He’s not done—not even close.

Your husband recovers so fast, you couldn't even help but wonder what sort of super human he is. When he gets excited, he won't stop until he makes that excitement have fulfilment. And Fushiguro Toji will take an take. His monster of pleasure demands to be full.

“Toji…” you whisper, your voice already betraying the anticipation that’s starting to build again. You feel his smirk against your skin, the low chuckle that vibrates through his chest as he kisses his way up to your neck, nipping softly at your pulse point.

“You didn’t think I was finished with you, did you? Need for my come to take, baby. Need to give you as much as possible.” he murmurs, voice dark with intent. His hand moves down, fingers grazing the inside of your thigh, teasing, as if testing your readiness for what’s to come. “Besides, baby, Iknow you can take more. You always do.”

Before you can even respond, Toji pulls out of you slowly, the absence of him leaving you aching, only to have him slide back in a moment later—deeper, harder, the sudden stretch drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. He groans softly, his hands gripping your hips as he starts moving, this time with a slower, more deliberate rhythm.

His hips roll against yours, each thrust precise, dragging out the sensation with agonizing slowness. You can feel him fully, every inch of him stretching you, filling you up completely as he starts to build up the intensity again. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him to take more of you.

“Toji—” you moan, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, fingers digging into the firm muscles of his back as he presses you deeper into the mattress.

“Shh, baby. ” he whispers, leaning down so that his lips are inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. “I’m gonna take my time with you, like I always do. You'd let me, won't you, mama?”

And he does. He moves at his own pace, each thrust measured and controlled, as if he’s savoring every second of being inside you. His eyes lock onto yours, that commanding intensity from earlier returning as he watches every reaction you give him.

It’s almost too much, the way he’s making you feel so exposed, so vulnerable beneath him, but you can’t tear your gaze away. You’re completely at his mercy. Perhaps even more than before. It was just the way it was between the two of you. And you can't help but want it.

His hand moves between your bodies, fingers finding your clit, rubbing in slow, tight circles that send sparks shooting through your core. The combination of his deep, deliberate thrusts and the focused attention on your most sensitive spot is overwhelming, and you can already feel the pressure building again, faster this time.

“You’re such a good baby girl, my little wife, huh?” he groans, his voice gravelly with desire. “You love it, don’t you? Love the way I fuck you, mama.”

You nod, unable to form words, your body reacting to him instinctively. His thick thumb presses harder against your clit, and your hips buck up toward him, chasing the pleasure that’s building so quickly it’s almost dizzying.

“Use your words, my baby. I need your words to be clear, hm?” he orders, his voice sharp and commanding. “Tell me how much you love it.”

“I— I love it, babe. I….Oh–” you gasp, barely able to get the words out as the pleasure coils tight inside you. “I love how you fuck me, Toji.”

“That’s it, baby. Good girl, my pretty wife.” he groans, his pace picking up as he drives into you harder now, more relentlessly. “You’re gonna come for me again, aren’t you? Like the good little wife you are? Gonna make me a daddy again, huh?”

You can feel yourself getting closer, every nerve in your body on fire as he takes you right to the edge again. His hand doesn’t stop, rubbing firm circles against your clit, and the pressure inside you becomes unbearable.

“Toji, please—” you moan, your voice desperate.

“I know, baby, I know.” he whispers, his pace quickening, his thrusts becoming rougher, more erratic as he chases his own release. “Come for me. I want to feel you fall apart again.”

His words push you over the edge, and your orgasm crashes through you, harder than before. Your body clenches around him, back arching as your eyes squeeze shut, the pleasure almost too much to handle. Toji groans low in his throat as he feels you tighten around him, his hips slamming into yours as he rides out every wave of your release.

You’re barely coming down from your high when you feel him thrust into you one last time, his grip on your hips bruising as he finally lets go, his own release hitting him hard. He moans your name, the sound of it rough and primal, as he fills you completely, his body going rigid above you.

For a long moment, neither of you move, the room filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing, your bodies still tangled together. Toji’s weight is comforting against you, grounding you as you come back down from the intensity of everything that just happened.

Finally, he pulls out slowly, rolling onto his back beside you. His arm reaches out, pulling you close so that you’re curled against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder. There’s a soft, satisfied hum in his throat as he presses a kiss to your forehead, his fingers lazily stroking your arm.

“You’re something else, baby.” he murmurs, his voice full of lazy affection, though there’s still that edge of satisfaction in it, like he knows exactly how much control he has over you.

You don’t need to respond—he already knows how deeply he affects you, how much you need him just as much as he needs you. And as you lie there in the quiet, wrapped in each other’s warmth, you can’t help but think about how, despite all of Toji’s roughness and teasing, there’s no place you’d rather be than here, in his arms. And you wish, so desperately, that you could give him another child.

══════════════════

epilogue

The next morning, you’re still tangled up in the sheets, but it’s not out of luxury. You try to move, but as soon as you shift an inch, your body protests with an aching reminder of exactly what Toji had done to you last night. Every muscle feels like it’s been through a battle, and you can't help but groan as you flop back onto the bed, surrendering to the pain.

From the doorway, you hear the sound of little footsteps padding across the floor. Megumi toddles in, clutching a stuffed animal under his arm, his wide eyes peeking over the edge of the bed. Behind him, Toji strides in, smirking like the smug devil he is.

“Morning, baby.” Toji says, far too chipper for someone who’d spent the entire night wrecking you. He’s holding a tray with what looks like breakfast—eggs, toast, and even a small bowl of fruit—but what stands out is the cup of coffee that you need more than air right now.

“Morning.” you croak, wincing as you try to sit up, only to immediately regret it. “I can’t feel my legs, babe. Pretty sure you broke me.”

Toji lets out a low chuckle, clearly proud of himself. “Yeah? Thought you liked it when I went all out.”

“Liking it and being able to walk after are two different things, you know.” you grumble, pulling the blanket up higher as Megumi stares at you with that same curious expression.

Toji sets the tray down on the bedside table, then leans down to kiss your forehead. “Guess I’ll have to carry you everywhere today, huh?” His voice is thick with amusement, and you shoot him a half-hearted glare, but honestly, you’re too tired to fight back.

“Please do, babe. I’m basically a noodle.”

Just then, Megumi climbs up onto the bed, his little hands gripping the edge as he pulls himself up with determination. He plops down beside you, his stuffed animal tucked under his chin. You smile, your heart warming despite the soreness, and Toji hands you the tray, still smirking like he’s king of the world.

“Breakfast in bed, as promised,” he says, crossing his arms like he’s just done you the biggest favor in the world. “Made it with Megumi. Though, uh, you might wanna avoid the toast. He helped with that.”

You glance down at the toast in question, one piece charred to a crisp, the other half-raw in the middle. “I see his culinary skills are coming along nicely.”

Toji laughs, sitting down at the edge of the bed. “Hey, he’s learning. Can’t all be naturals like me.”

You raise an eyebrow, but before you can shoot back a sarcastic remark, Megumi climbs into Toji’s lap, looking between the two of you with that innocent, wide-eyed look only toddlers can pull off. “Hm, hm. I love my good house husband, really.”

“As you should, baby.” He snickers back at you. “No one else will be like this for you but me.”

“I know, I know.” You say as you continue to eat.

He smiles and kisses your head. “Good.”

“Toji, babe….” you say, setting the tray aside and carefully reaching out to ruffle Megumi’s hair. “If I can’t walk today, you're on diaper duty.”

Toji looks genuinely horrified for a split second. "Now, wait a minute—"

"All your fault, Mr. 'let me give you a baby,’" you tease, biting into your eggs while giving him a pointed look. "So, now you get to deal with the consequences."

Megumi looks up at him, blinking with his bright big eyes, and Toji sighs dramatically. "Fine, fine." he says, giving you that classic Toji smirk. “But next time, you’re gettin’ the easy job.”

You roll your eyes, though there’s a playful smile on your face. “Next time, maybe go easy on me so I can still stand.”

Toji grins, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips, voice low and teasing. “No promises, baby.”

And with that, the morning unfolds with you lounging in bed, Fushiguro Megumi occasionally wandering over to offer you his stuffed animal, and Toji trying (and failing) to get through diaper duty without swearing under his breath. You can’t help but laugh at the sight of him, the big, tough man reduced to toddler chaos.

But despite everything;

the soreness, the teasing, the burnt toast—you wouldn’t have it any other way.

This is life.

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infamous-if · 3 months ago

Text

✭INFAMOUS UPDATE IS HERE ✭

238K -> 457K WORDS

Please read this post before playing! It's finally here! After five months of writing and rewriting and salvaging and crying and sweating and bleeding I finally finished sort of kind of! Firstly, I want to thank you for your patience and understanding over this duration of this rewrite. It was stressful at times but I'm happy with the end result and I hope everyone else will be too :)

This will be the last chapter I release without beta testers/other sets of eyes so expect errors. I can playtest until my fingers turn blue but I'm just one person </3 I'm bound to have missed stuff.

Please let me know of errors! I tested it a few times with no problems but we know how it goes lol

IN THIS CHAPTER THREE UPDATE:

drama

mayhem

chaos

some betrayal

some surprises

just...read it lmao

PROLOGUE - CHAPTER 2 CHANGES:

**chapter two was too large of a file to upload on dd so I had to split it last minute and I uhhhh dont know how that translates in the demo but it should work lol please let me know if its wonky!**

fixed up grammatical errors and typos

expanded some scenes and added some more choices

you can now choose that your mc has "changed" in some way (drinking, no longer drinking, partier, no longer a partier, negative, positive, attached, detached, or a general default. I was asked to add an MC who "gets around" or hookups a lot but I'm still debating on whether I'll add that since there's already quite a bit lolol)

you can choose to have changed your band's genre before/after seven

TECHNICAL CHANGES:

you will be able to explicitly state your sexuality in the beginning. this was a big ask and I apologize for not doing it earlier! I wasn't good at coding when I started and I knew I always wanted to make the genders separate from MC's sexuality but I didn't know how to do that at the start :) So you can still choose the genders of the ROs for story purposes and variety. IF YOU DO NOT SEE ROMANCE OPTIONS THAT IS NOT A BUG. You simply chose a RO gender that doesn't correlate with the sexuality you chose for your MC. Having said that, if you do see a romance option available and it's not supposed to be there please let me know! That means I may have missed it coding-wise.

the stats have been all fixed! I've added all the necessary variables and such. The stat portion of the game has been updated with the appropriate pages but they're not finished. Still, the stats should be fine.

You will now have confessionals in the stat page! The feature still isn't a thing yet because I haven't come up with the confessionals lolol but you can click on it to see what it's about. Essentially, as you progress through the story you will be able to see confessionals from the cast of Infamous throughout. They disappear and appear periodically so if you miss it, THAT'S IT! You won't get a chance to see them again until MC watches an episode where it's relevant.

There is now a: Discography page, Infamous wiki, botb cast and staff page, and other characters page for organization. Those are not finished but they're there!

I changed a few stat names but their functions remain the same.

You will be able to choose how you would like to be described (masculine, feminine, neither, both).

O is officially gender-selectable.

You can set the genders of the ROs at the start or wait till you meet them.

PLAY HERE

#update #ch 2 is super cursed by the way #so big it couldn't upload on dd #had to move the variables #was ripping my hair out #infamous update

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feyascorner · 10 months ago

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Hear me out! Hear me out!

From Astrion's pov

A Tav who hates physical contact.

But then one night when it's pouring rain Tav comes to Astarion's tent feeling scared and ask if they can stay and then one thing leads to another and suddenly the two of them are cuddled together and Astarion is like "I thought you didn't like being touched" and Tav is like "Normally I'm scared people will hurt me when they touch me. But you are different. I feel safe with you. I trust you."

a/n. I’m going to collapse they’re everything to me AHHH THIS IS SUCH A CUTE PROMPT

Astarion, by nature and by the two-hundred years he’s spent as a vampire spawn, is a touchy person. It’s instinctual. A habit he can no longer break. It’s not even sexual, half the time. It’s simply how he conveys the words that he struggles to say, even if his vocabulary is filled to the brim with flowery verses of love straight from a romance novel.

But he understands the aversion for touch. Because he’s spent so much of his life hating the touch of strangers against his skin, he understands when you recoil when one of your companions attempt to hug you, or someone tries to shake your hand. Even if yours doesn’t stem from the similar situations where he had to set out on a victim under Cazador’s orders, he understands what it’s like to simply dislike it.

He doesn’t touch you, even if his hand itches to brush the stray strands of hair out of your face. Even as he has to yank his arm away when he feels it nearing yours as you walk alongside one another. Even as all he wants to do is drag you to the nearest corner and beg that you just hold his hand.

So when you appear at the flap of his tent, barely shielding yourself from the thunderous weather outside, asking if you can stay, his jaw physically unhinges.

He coughs, gathering himself quickly—or as quickly as he can manage.

“Come here, darling. You’ll freeze away with that mortal body of yours.”

He doesn’t even know how it happens. Well, he does, but he doesn’t really believe it’s happening. Only fifteen minutes later, you’re snuggled in under his blankets, pressed tightly against his side. He stares up at the ceiling on his back with wide eyes, slowly turning to look at you.

“Is this…alright?” He asks, and you peek out from one eye, adjusting your head on his arm. He can smell your shampoo from so close—lavender? No, maybe another blasted flower he doesn’t know the name of…

“What is?”

“This,” he waves his free arm between the two of you. “Don’t get me wrong, darling, you know I’m never against a cuddle, but I thought you—well—“

You stare at him expectantly.

“I thought you disliked physical contact,” he says, softer. “Not just with me, obviously. In general you seem rather opposed to the idea.”

The thunder rings from outside and your brows crease deeper. The light from a lightning strike illuminates your faces briefly before it’s a dim darkness again, with nothing but your own eyes able to adjust just enough to make out one another’s features. He’s sure he sees more than you do, considering his familiarity with the dark, and uses it to notice the way your lips purse at the intrusive sounds coming from outside.

He also notices you leaning closer to him, but hesitant. Your movements are unsure.

If he had a heart, it would’ve been pounding now, surely.

So he curls his arm closer, pushing you into his chest in the process. You tense briefly, but melt into the feeling, and he lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Are you afraid?”

Your voice is but a whisper. “Not anymore.”

There’s a comfortable silence hanging in the air for what seems like hours, but he might consider them to be just a few minutes. The rain pounds relentlessly against the tent, but here, even through the thin fabric, he doesn’t even notice it anymore.

“You’re different from everyone else,” you mumble, and he looks down at his chest to see your eyes halfway shut, clearly about to doze off. “I know you won’t hurt me…there’s no reason for me to avoid touching you.”

He blinks, and you bury half your face into the fabric of his shirt.

“I want you to touch me.”

For the first time in decades, Astarion finds himself at a loss for words. He’s said worse things, sure, but coming from you?…

After filing through a dozen possible responses, he settled on one, opening his mouth to respond, but your breath is already heavier. You’ve already left to a dream world he cannot follow you into, and you’ve left him in a state that he would’ve considered humiliating with anyone else.

He stares at the ceiling again, listening to the soft rhythm of your breathing.

“You can’t just say that and then fall asleep you fool…”

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 x reader #bg3 #fluff

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sarahreesbrennan · 10 months ago

Note

Are all the themes in “in other lands” supposed to be a commentary on something? Or do you just like writing sex scenes between minors, age gaps, and reverse misogyny?

Genuine question.

Ohhh, my dear anon, I don't believe this is a genuine question.

But it does bring up something I've been meaning to talk about. So I'll take the bait.

Firstly. Yes, my work contains a commentary on the world around us. I wonder what I could be doing with the child soldiers being sexually active in their teens (people hook up right after battles), and the age gap relationship ending in the younger one being too mature for the elder. What could I possibly have been attempting when I said 'how absurd gender roles are, when projected onto people we haven't been accustomed by our own society to see that way'? I wasn't being subtle, that's for sure.

Secondly. Yes I do enjoy writing! I think I should, it's my life's work. Am I titillated by my own writing, no - though I think it's fine to be. The sex scenes of In Other Lands aren't especially titillating, to be honest. It is interesting to me how often people sneer at women for writing romance and sex scenes, having 'book boyfriends,' insinuating women writers fancy their own characters. Women having too much immoral fun! Whereas men clearly write about sex for high literary purposes.

… I have to say from my experience of women and men's writing, I haven't found that to be true.

I’m not in this to have an internet argument. Mostly people use bad faith takes to poke at others from the other side of a screen for kicks. But I do know some truly internalise the attitude that writing certain things is wrong, that anyone who makes mistakes must be shunned as impure, and that is a deeply Victorian and restrictive attitude that guarantees unhappiness.

I've become increasingly troubled by the very binary and extreme ways of thinking I see arising on the internet. They come naturally from people being in echo chambers, becoming hostile to differing opinions, and the age-old conundrum of wanting to be good, fearing you aren't, and making the futile effort to be free of sin. It makes me think of Tennyson, who when travelling through Ireland at the time of the Great Famine, said nobody should talk about the 'Irish distress' to him and insisted the window shades of his carriage be shut as he went from castle to castle. So he wouldn't see the bodies. But that didn't make the bodies cease to be.

In Les Mis, Victor Hugo explores why someone might steal, what that means about them and their circumstances, and who they might be - and explores why someone else is made terribly unhappy, and endangers others, through their own too rigid adherence to judgement and condemnation without pity. The story understands both Jean Valjean the thief and Javert the policeman. Javert’s way of thinking is the one that inevitably leads to tragedy.

Depiction isn't endorsement. Depiction is discussion.

Many of my loved ones have had widely varying relationships to and experience of sex (including 'none'). They've felt all different types of ways about it. If writing about them is not permissible, I close them out. I'd much rather a dialogue be open than closed.

I do understand the urge to write what seems right to others. I've been brain-poisoned that way myself. I used to worry so much about my female characters doing the wrong things, because then they'd be justly hated! Then I noted which of my writer friends had people love their female characters the most - and it was the one who wrote their female characters as screwing up massively, making rash and sometimes wrong decisions. Who wrote them as people. Because that's what people do. That's what feels true to readers.

I want my characters to feel true to readers. I want my characters to react in messy ways to imperfect situations. I love fantasy, I love wild action and I love deep thought, and I want to engage. That's what In Other Lands is about. That's even more what Long Live Evil is about. That sexy lady who sashays in to have sexy sex with the hero - what is her deal? Someone who tricks and lies to others - why are they doing that, how did they get so skilled at it? What makes one person cruelly judgemental, and another ignore all boundaries? What makes Carmen Maria Machado describe ‘fictional queer villains’ as ‘by far the most interesting characters’? What irritates people about women having a great time? What attracts us to power, to fiction, and to transgression?

I don’t know the answers to all those questions, but I know I want to explore them. And I know one more thing.

If the moral thing to do is shut people out and shut people up? Count me among the villains.

#bookblr #discourse #in other lands #long live evil #les mis #carmen maria machado #writing

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letteredlettered · 7 months ago

Text

Went to a panel about slash fanfic at a con. Moderator said, "Welcome to the panel about erotica." The words "slash" and "erotica" were used interchangeably throughout. Panel was great.

There was a Q&A at the end so I raised my hand and said these terms seemed conflated. Moderator explained she'd run this panel for 10 years and it started out being about slash but drifted into erotica and she never changed the name. (She also said she was glad I brought it up and would keep it in mind for the future of the panel.) The guy on the panel who writes original m/f erotica said that slash and what he writes are basically the same thing. I said I had no complaints about the name of the panel or the panelists, I was just curious about what slash meant to them, and whether slash by necessity had to include sex scenes to be considered slash.

Two panelists answered that slash was romance between men but usually had sex. Eventually one of them did make clear that slash didn't have to have sex but that it was what they wanted to read. Another panelist said that to them slash really just meant dude romance but people wouldn't read their fic unless there was sex so they felt they had to put sex scenes in.

Person came up to me after the panel. Said they felt I didn't get my question answered. Then they explained that since the 70s, 'slash' has been used to mean m slash m romance, meaning explicit and sexual. Then they said it sounded like what I wanted to ask about was shipping. They explained to me that shipping is just wanting the characters to be together but slash meant sex. They explained that since the invention of AO3, people had begun to use the ampersand to mean the fic had two characters who were friends and that the slash was used to denote ships, but even though that punctuation just meant romance, the word "slash" in the last twenty years had become synonymous with explicit fic. I explained I had been in fandom longer than twenty years and this was not necessarily my experience. They said, "Bye!"

Though they seemed confused as to whether what they personally defined as slash had been mainstream since the 70s or since the last twenty years (the person was 24), they were well-meaning. The panel was great. I'd recommend it to anyone, though I'm not stating the name of the con here because I don't want anyone involved to feel this is really a critique of the panel itself. The moderator in particular was superb.

I think that this conversation just brought up a whole lot of feelings for me. I think it bothers me that people still think that all fanfic is smutty, that all slash requires porn, and that all fic must have porn in order to be read. I am familiar with this conflation and feel perfectly fine going to a panel that I think is about slash fic and finding out it's about erotic lit, some of which is fanfic. After all, I like both, and I recognize that fandom mushes these things together and teasing them out into separate strands isn't something everyone--or possibly even most fans--have any interest in. I recognize that I am pedantic to a degree that most people find uninteresting.

I have a little bit more of a problem with the idea that slash is "basically the same" as het, but this was said by only one of the panelists. If your panel is actually about straight up erotica and not slash, then the problem is just the name of the panel.

What I found the most frustrating, however, is that whenever I have this conversation, I feel like the default assumption most of my interlocutors begin AND end with is this: smut is why we're here. And I just don't understand that. Away Childish Things has 44,800 kudos, and it has no smut in it. My next most kudosed fic has almost 15,000 kudos and tons of smut. My next most kudosed fic has almost 14,000 kudos and it doesn't even have a kiss.

I'm not talking about kudos to show off how many I have, or because I think kudos make a point about quality of a fic. They have nothing to do with quality. But they do have to do with popularity, and the truth is, sex doesn't sell. It's something else. It's not good writing. It's not a great plot. It's not in-character characterization. IT'S SOMETHING ELSE. What is it?

I've had people say to me, "Well, you're lettered; it works differently for you." DOES IT??? Maybe they meant that because enough people know me as fic author, people will read my fic anyway, but let me tell you, it's always been this way for me, long before my fic was really popular. The ones with smut did not get more praise and attention. The ones that PEOPLE LIKED got more praise and attention. Do people like fic that has smut in it more than fic without smut? Some of the time! Does there have to be smut for people to like it? NO.

Have I had people tell me they didn't want to read something I wrote because it didn't have smut? YES. But the point I'm trying to make is, there are people who want to read fic that doesn't have smut in it. THEY are your audience for the fic you want to write that doesn't have smut in it. Fic does not have to have smut to be fic; it doesn't have to have smut to be read.

I think part of the reason I get so upset about it is that slash as we know it today didn't just emerge because some people weren't getting to read smut and they wanted to. It emerged because women and queer people and other marginalized communities were not getting to see what they wanted to in mainstream media. They weren't getting sex scenes, but they also weren't getting queer content, they weren't getting stories about sensitive men that defied patriarchal stereotypes of male toxicity; they weren't getting stories about disabled folks and people of color and folks who are into kink and folks who have different lifestyles. To reduce fanfic to porn is to remove the rich history of why it exists and who it exists for.

I asked earlier what makes a fic popular, and to me, it's exactly this. It's when you read a thing and you feel, "this is really satisfying to my id in a way that I am not getting from mainstream media." And sometimes what is satisfying to your id is very horny anal sex. Other times what is satisfying to your id is Bucky Barnes getting a blanket and facing his trauma. Sometimes it's Harry Potter being trans. Sometimes it's Naruto and Sasuke getting to just hold hands as the sun sets. I have no idea who those two people are but boy howdy do I know they just fucking need to hold hands.

But the other reason I get so upset about it is I'm so fucking tired of reading a great fic that devolves into mediocre mechanical porn that is there due to the collective brainwashing that states that this is the ONLY reason ALL of us are here.

Discuss.

#slash #fic

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untitledgoosegay · 4 months ago

Text

re last reblog I do see fanfic culture pushing/replicating a certain model of "what trauma looks like," "how trauma works"

this is a problem across all areas of society obviously, but transformative works are, well, transformative. they're about crafting and modifying narratives where the fan-creator sees a flaw or a lack -- often for the better! don't get me wrong, I've done my fair share of "I take a hammer and I fix the canon," it's the main thing that gets my creative gears spinning -- but what happens when that "flaw" is simply a narrative not conforming to popular expectations?

some people just don't get PTSD from events that sound obviously traumatic. they're not masking, and they're not coping; they just straight-up didn't get the permanently-locked stress-response that defines PTSD. they walk away from a horrible experience going "well, that sucked, but it's over now." some people do get PTSD from events most people wouldn't find traumatic. we don't really know why some people get PTSD and others don't. but fandom has an idea of events that must be traumatizing, of a "correct" way to portray trauma. you see the problems with this lack of understanding in e.g. fans pressuring the devs of Baldur's Gate 3 to add dialogue where the player character badgers Halsin about his own feelings on his abuse -- because he must be traumatized, and his trauma must fit a certain mold and presentation of sexual trauma, under the mistaken impression that anything outside that narrow window is somehow "wrong" and disrespectful or even harmful to survivors.

take, for another example, the very common trope of a traumatized character who hates touch or sex "learning" to like touch or sex as a part of their healing process. certainly that can be healing for some people; other people will never like, or want, touch or sex, because of trauma or because they just don't. the assumption that someone who doesn't want sex or doesn't like to be touched must be traumatized, must be suffering from this perceived lack, is seriously harmful -- to asexual people, to people with sensory issues around touch, and to people for whom healing from trauma means freedom to refuse sex or touch.

and there's a secondary trope, one that's slightly more thoughtful but ultimately repeats the problem -- that once someone has learned that their boundaries will be respected, they'll feel it's safe to soften those boundaries. once they feel safe refusing touch or sex, they'll feel comfortable allowing it on their own terms. but many people don't, and many people won't! many people will simply never want to be touched, and never want sex, and they are not suffering or broken or lacking because of it. the idea that proving you'll respect someone's boundaries entitles you to test those boundaries -- the paradox is obvious, and yet this is something i've seen hurt (re-traumatize) people i care for.

people are imperfect victims. people don't heal in the ways you expect. many people have positive memories of their abuse, of their abusers. many people hurt others in the course of their trauma, in ways that can't easily be unpacked in a 5k oneshot. very few narratives of trauma and recovery actually fit the ones put forward by popular children's media and romance novels -- which are the ones I most see replicated in fandom spaces, because they provide the clearest narrative and easiest catharsis, and so they're easy and soothing to reach for.

that's not necessarily a bad thing! i am not immune to goopy romance tropes. i am not immune to teary catharsis. not every fic has to grapple with ugly realities. but there's a problem when these narratives become predominant, when people think they're accurate and realistic depictions of trauma, when the truth of trauma is unpleasant and uncomfortable, and doesn't fit any single narrative, let alone one of comforting catharsis

#bird original #see also: the murderbot diaries #murderbot does not like to be touched. murderbot does not like touching other people #physical contact is an unpleasant necessity in emergencies or to feign being human (something murderbot also hates)#at one point murderbot uncomfortably offers a hug to someone it cares for because she's upset and needs one --#and she refuses. because she knows it doesn't really want to; she won't ask it to do something it hates for her benefit #& yet murderbot fic often has it learning that touch ~isn't so bad~ and maybe there are a COUPLE people it likes to cuddle with.#the differences between vash in the original trigun anime and trigun stampede --#tristamp!vash is your woobie who hides his sad and traumatized heart under goofy behavior;#who copes and avoids through silly indulgences #2011!vash ... is not that #2011!vash isn't coping or masking. he feels immense grief yes; he also feels immense joy; the two are inseparable #he pursues joy moment to moment because he knows how fleeting each moment is #he loves people so intensely because he knows that he'll lose them -- so he has no time to waste with them #his grief is real and profound; so is his joy #i find that much more compelling and i feel like that's not a character i'd see in today's media environment #anyway #fandom #trauma #fanfic #throwing a golden apple into the tags with this but fuck it we ball

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emotionally-cuckolded · 2 months ago

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[Therapist -- directing her comments to the husband] OK. So I understand that the cuckolding is going quite well, and that your wife now is seeing one particular man quite regularly. That's good. Cuckolding shouldn't be only about the sex. Romance and emotional feelings are important too. But you've also said that there are times when you feel very hurt and rejected. Those feelings when a man is cuckolded are quite common. But remember -- this office is a safe space where it's best for you to be completely honesty about your feelings. So tell me about that.

[Cuck] Well -- it's a little hard to talk about, and humiliating, but I'll try. The thing is -- I understand why she cuckolds me. I get it. I really do. I know I didn't satisfy her sexually. So cuckolding has been a real marriage-saver and I'm really happy we came to see you when things weren't going well. And you warned me early on that there was a good chance that if my wife found a man who satisfied her sexual needs, that she would probably develop real romantic feelings for him. And that HAS happened obviously, and I've gotten used to being alone most weekend evenings and nights while she and her boyfriend are out as a couple socializing and spending the night together.

But -- and this is when things are hardest for me -- sometimes her boyfriend comes over to the house, and I have to sleep in the guest room. And even when they aren't being that romantic with each other, they make me feel like a third wheel -- they talk and laugh with each other and I'm left out of the conversations, and they sit with each other watching TV, and I'm like an outsider or the hired help in my own home and with my own wife, and yes, that makes me feel rejected and hurt. On those nights, I usually have to make and serve them dinner and do the dishes and bring them drinks or anything else they want while they are being affectionate with each other while watching TV, and I even have to make sure the upstairs bedroom is all ready for them.

I want her to have a relationship with him, because I know that's part of all of this. But I still can't get over the feelings of jealousy and rejection.

[Wife] Sweetie. I understand why you would feel that way, because I really have begun to have strong feelings for him, and when he is at the house, HE is the one I want to be with, not you. Surely you can see how happy he and I are with each other. He's so funny, and smart, and just sitting on his lap kissing and petting while watching TV is really wonderful. And so you really ARE a third wheel at those times. And I guess I am rejecting you at those times -- sort of. But really, it's more that when I'm with him, I hardly think about you at all, except as someone who has a lot of chores to do. When he and I are together at home, your role is to do whatever we ask of you. I thought you understood that. I'm not trying to be mean or hurtful. I just need you to accept that my relationship with him takes priority when we're together. You can understand and accept that -- can't you?

[Cuck] OK. Yes. I understand. I'm sorry. It's just that I love you so much. But I'll try to do better about being a good cuckold for you, including just stepping aside so you and he can have your time together. Do you forgive me for getting upset?

[Wife] Of course I do, hun. And I'm glad we've talked about this, because he and I were talking, and I think he's probably going to start spending a lot more evenings and nights at our house very soon.

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normansnt · 10 months ago

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Ace

(Alastor x male reader)

Explain to Alastor what Ace means

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"(Y/N)?" Called out Alastor to you

"Yes?" You answered not looking up from what you were reading.

"Would you like to go, get some coffee with me, in, what your generation calls, a date?"

Now to this you looked up.

"What?" You answered very confused

"In a...romantic way?" He tried explaining it to you thinking thats the part you didn't understand.

"I mean...I would love to but you dont have to push yourself if it would make you feel uncomfortable" you answered while you put your book down slowly on the coffee table.

"Uncomfortable? Why would it make me uncomfortable we are close are we not?"

Now he got confused as well.

"Well because...your ace and/or aro?"

"What is with that word, Rosie said it as well and the meaning of it still avoids me" he answered starting to get annoyed by his lack of understanding.

"What- ohhhh what did you say when did you die?"

"1933, however its quite rude to ask someone that." He answered looking at you in a scolding way.

"I'm sorry but because you lived back than thats why you don't know that word, please sit let me explain"

He sat down on the couch in front of you.

"Ok, so when we say 'ace' we refer to someone who has little to no sexual attraction and aromantic or aro is someone who has little to no romantic attraction. Of course there is much more to this subject but this kind of sums it up."

Alastor just stared at you.

Him? Not being interested in romantic relationships or sex??

Thats...true. He never felt the need to sleep with anyone he was doing totally fine without it. Romance...was another category completely however, and he didn't know if it was something he was interested in it or not.

He asked you out in the first place because he felt very good in your presence. He felt comfortable and content. Was that not romance?

"Alastor?" He has been staring at you for a while and it was quite creepy.

"Listen I understand thats a lot of information to process especially if you just realized some things about yourself so I can leave if you like-"

"No" Answered Alastor a bit fast. He has made up his mind. He might not be interested in a sexual relationship however he really wanted to kiss you right now.

"It might be true that I have not known this so far in my life or death, and you did make me realize some things about myself, but even so my offer still stands."

"Oh? Are you sure because I only want to if it doesn't make you uncom-"

You couldn't get the rest of your sentence out due to a pair of lips on yours.

Alastor kissed you.

You were stunned for a second but after you realized what was happening you kissed back immediately.

His lips were surprisingly soft, not to mention he did pretty good looking at the fact that it was his first kiss.

"Trust me, dear, If something would make me uncomfortable I wouldn't do it." He said grinning and holding your chin after you two parted.

You were a blushing mess.

You've never thought about Alastor that way, since you thought he was aromantic. But now that you did, fucking god, you like him.

Whit that thought in mind you kissed him again.

This time you stood up and he put his hands on your waist while yours were on his neck.

It wasn't a heated kiss and it will never be very likely you didn't want to step over his boundaries.

"...So my dear, would you like to get that coffee now?" He asked smiling while offering you his arm.

"I would love to" you smiled back at him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Guys I have a serious problem Im literally shitting words I have never written this many fanfics in one go🥹

BUT YK WHAT WORTH IT CUZ I LOVE EM

I literally love almost all characters in hazbin hotel so much I JUST CANNOT STOP💀

Thank you sm for the correction @whyarewehere103 😎🙏🧡

I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies,gentleman and other, good afternoon good evening and good night🦖🧡

#male reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #gay fanfiction #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin hotel

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eastend-if · 10 months ago

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👥DEMO 👥 PLAYLIST 👥 PINTEREST 👥 COG FORUM

You keep having the same dreams over and over. It happened, years ago, before you left. You thought you had left Eastend behind for good.

It seems you can never truly escape your past. The Priest had warned you.

There's a girl you've never seen in your dreams. Yet, she seems so familiar - as a forgotten teddy bear you left in the attic of your home. She feels right, she looks wrong, she's wrong. Because she's not you, she says. And the two of you stand on the road...a bright light blinds you but the smell of iron reaches you. You do not need your eyes to deduce the ending of the nightmares.

Metaphorical dreams have never been your forte...except this is real. On the day you arrive, she's still alive. And smiling...laughing...walking with her friends. She looks like a normal girl of your age.

You black out - from the shock you think. The familiar iron smell being all too close, it makes you nauseous. At least, the earthen scent that lingers on your clothes counters it a little.

Why are you in the woods again?

....Why is there blood on your hands?

Welcome home, whispers the wind.

• Customize the vessel whether be it in looks, personality or identity.

• You are free to romance four of the cast. Maybe more, there are many eyes on you.

• Your choices will shape you as they shape the town. They will have consequences on the people around you and those who aren't anymore. Be careful you never know what effect the ripples may have.

• Explore your past to shape your future.

• Fight your nightmares should you be so inclined - or welcome them, there might be surprises in the deep dark part of your mind?

• Choose whether or not you'll doom your childhood town - although, that might not be left to you. Leaving is an option too, after all, you've already left once.

• Survive - or don't. You didn't think you were the only one who could save them, did you?

Eastend is rated 18+ for sexual themes, substance use, explicit language, explicit violence, death and more.

Beverly Arevalo [F,23], your childhood friend. At least, one of you perceived it that way. She has always been difficult to read and understand, you were one of the few who could years back. Maybe you can rekindle your friendship - maybe it will grow into more. The only thing you know for certain is that there are many unknowns surrounding Beverly.

Aina Valen [F,26] is that stereotypical preppy girl, at least what you know of her. You were never quite close when you still lived in town, but things have changed and so have both of you. Surprisingly enough, she works at the library now, having taken over her brother. You're not aware of what happened between them, only that she seems overly bored whenever you pass by the vitrine. At least she insists on telling you you are the 'spice' of her days, whatever that may mean.

Benjamin Li [M,26] his preferred nickname, Benji has always shown kindness to you and this didn't change with your unexpected return. He somehow always has a nice word for you or others in his vicinity, it's refreshing quite frankly. There are always critters following him around but they say animals are good judges of characters so that's a good sign, right?

Hezekiah Lyncroft [M, 24] was always a pain in your ass, even younger. Always arguing with you over anything and nothing, he was the reason for many headaches. Back then, there were rumours about his home life, ones you remember well. At least, he seems to be in a better place nowadays, even though he's still a pain to be around. But not all pains are bad.

+ familiar faces and strangers you've yet to meet

Demo stands currently at 5.8k words. It is meant as short introduction to the setting and story. Hope you enjoy despite the length :)

#interactive fiction #interactive story #interactive novel #interact if #if wip #if intro #intro post #choice of games #cog #choose your own adventure #eastend if

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razzle-n-dazzle · 10 months ago

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Yandere headcanons for any character of your choosing? I loved the Adam ones !

ᯓ★ General YANDERE! Headcanons (triple threat!) Angel Dust / Reader, Mammon / Reader, Vox / Reader TW! If you don't like this type of content please scroll away: Dark romance, Romanizes Yandere(s), stalking, drugs, alcohol, mention of (sexual) abuse, toxic relationship at the start (Mammon), gaslighting, murder, weird ex behavior (Vox), accusations of incest (didn't happen, Vox), manipulation (Vox), kidnapping, forced love/relationship, emotional manipulation.

ᯓ It was the moment that you started treating Angel Dust as Anthony, not just a play-thing or a fuck buddy or a guy to do crack or get wasted with, just plain, pure Anthony, that anything really stirred in him.

ᯓ He had seen you around the street a few times, never really talked to you yet just always managed to point you out from the crowd. He never knew why, nor did he understand why you, another Sinner just trying to live your own life in this hell-pit, always stuck out to him like a sore thumb anytime he was near your vicinity. It wasn't until he actually spoke to your first in the hotel that he realized why; You weren't a bitch, you didn't act like everyone else in hell and it was odd.

ᯓ It was like you were a toned down version of Charlie, still bubbly like her and very much being able to keep up if need be, yet you were quiet and kept to yourself; Speaking only when spoken to, or when need be, and even then your voice carried this honey sweetness Angel only expected in the voice of, well, angels. "Oh, hello, Angel!" Was your first words to him. And they strangely held no malice, irreverence, or flirtatious tone, not even undertone; They were just plan and simply, and slightly sweet, and was just a greeting. He wouldn't realize how you friend spoke to him would stick into his head later that night, nor that starting that conversation with you would change his life so much. After all, with a new resident at the hotel, who happened to be at bar at the same time as Angel, was nothing to be note worthy or right home about. There was only one bar at the hotel, and it was kind of used as the main common room even if there were couches.

ᯓ Yet you made it rememberable. And you always made your interactions with Anthony after that rememberable.

ᯓ Yandere! Angel is more Anthony than Angel speaking, thinking, feeling, at least most of the time; Because it was Anthony you had made an impression on that night, not Angel. It was Anthony you had captured the heart of truly and wholly, leaving no room for competition by completely devouring his attention and infecting his mind with your sunny smile and sweetened voice. His mind, from that day on, was captured by you and your everything. Even when trying to be Angel, trying to be that perfect Porn Star everyone knows him to be, as soon as you capture his attention it's like he can't think. All he can see is you, all he can smell is you, all his thoughts are consumed and eaten by your presence. By your soft touches and your words and just by you. In his eyes, you're perfect.

ᯓ He wants to be both be you and be with you at once.

ᯓ He wanted your sweet nature, which still left room to let you stand up for yourself. He craved to have your gentle touch, not soiled by his line of infiltrating, disgusting, consuming work. He yearned for your body, to both be plush and flushed against his hands and yet also for your body to be his. He wanted you. He wanted your being, your soul, your everything. He wanted your trust and your kindness, even if he felt he didn't deserve it. He wanted to keep you to himself and shield away from what he was, who he was, and who he worked for.

ᯓ He wanted to love you and for you to love him.

ᯓ During your first few months of being friends, and maybe even after, Anthony made it a point to try and talk to you whenever he could. He also made it a point to scroll endlessly through your Instagram, Twitter, and any other form of social media in Hell that you had and he could get his hands on. He slowly began to learn who you were friends with, where your favorite food joints where, where you liked to hang out, your style of clothes, and if you had family down in Hell. Anthony get's so absorbed in having you in his life that something in the back of brain slowly began to justify his stalkerish actions, even encouraged it when he felt disgusted doing so before. 'They're posting this for all of Hell to see', 'You're just trying to learn more about them to be better friends', 'Other people would do this too, you're not doing anything wrong', 'They might like it'.

ᯓ Though he wouldn't let you know he does this. He wouldn't want to creep or freak you out, that would just drive you away, and he couldn't bare not having a day where he got to see your face or hear your voice. And he also wouldn't be able to handle it if you began to look at him with shame and fear. Oh, he would never want to hurt you like that.

ᯓ He would never want to hurt you, ever; Nor would he want, or let, anyone else hurt you.

ᯓ He needed to keep you away from Valentino and Angel Dust. Anthony knew you loved him, at least to some sort of extent, yet he didn't know if you would love Angel Dust; A porn star who's had his private parts flashed all over hell and has done every kinky shit that could be thought up of. And oh, Valentino, if he ever caught wind that Anthony Angel Dust was dating some sinner, he would be pissed. Either going out for you directly or going after Angel himself, and while he could take the abuse, especially if it meant saving you the pain, he would not put you through that shit.

ᯓ He would keep you close, made sure you felt protected and safe and loved, yet far enough to never entangle you in his fucked up work world.

ᯓ Yandere! Anthony, who adores any sort of non-sexual physical contact between the two of you, even if it takes him a moment to get comfortable with. Forgiving and forgetting old, and active, habits were hard, and yet you waited for him, you held patience and understanding for his background. It just made him fall even more madly in love with you.

ᯓ Yandere! Anthony, who may or may not have killed a few sinners for even daring to try and touch you (thinking you were a porn star just like Angel) just because you associated with him.

ᯓ Anthony, who will receive a phone call from you while doing a shoot for Val and try his best to answer right away, even if it meant facing repercussions. He just couldn't bare thinking about the possibility that you could be in trouble and missing that call, just to find out you were ordering coffee and forgot his order; But if it had been the latter, he would never forgive himself. Plus, while being plowed into by a few dozen guys, he always craves to hear your voice. It's like a breath of fresh air he needs to keep going.

ᯓ Anthony, who's able to put up with Val's requests and wants because he knows he gets to return to the hotel to see you, and your smiling face and feel you pepper sweet kisses into his cheeks if he wanted. Maybe even cuddle up against you, listening to your rhythmed breathing as you took care of his aches and pains. As you gave him the after care he didn't know he so desperately needed until know.

ᯓ Anthony, who didn't know how jealous he could get until he noticed you started hanging around a certain person a lot more; Or maybe that person wanted to start hanging around you a lot more. Either way, even if he had worked that tag, he constantly asked to tag along. And when you weren't looking, he would shoot glares and threats at the sinner who dared try and steal his lover; He would keep this up for as long as it took for the sinner to get the message and leave you along. And when you started to realize that friend was distancing themselves from you, he would swoop in and call him an asshole and that you deserved better friends. All the while he cupped your cheeks, squishing your face together, and peppered a kiss in between your eyebrows to quell the pain you felt.

ᯓ Anthony who is nothing short but a soft Yandere, who simply just wants you all for himself. You were too good to be faced out there with all the creeps and the weirdos of the world; And while he might not fully deserve you, you seemed to have picked him and he'll make sure your after life if the best experience of your life.

ᯓ "You cannot be in love with- with that two-timing, bitch ass face, Mammon! Don't you see what he's doing to you?!" Where some of the last words you ever heard from your long time friend before effectively cutting them off; Because it's what you thought best at the time. It's what Mammon told you was best at the time, claiming they were simply jealous and wanted to end your perfect relationship with him. It would be the last words from any sort of 'reason' you would ever heard, words trying to help but you knew they didn't understand. And that wasn't from Mammon's reasoning, nor his infection in your brain, nor his overpowering stance that easily made you tremble and obey.

ᯓ It was by your own thoughts, your own judgement that you had passed from dating Mammon ever since the day he killed your lover; Hanging them up on stage for everyone to see, a wide, psychopathic grin on his face before he turned to you, asking for your hand in marriage.

ᯓ And you had been afraid of him, afraid of death, when you had agreed all those years ago. He was a Sin, a Prince of Hell, and that made his power greatly out way yours. You had been afraid of the reproductions of you had said no, even if you truly had held no love or even care for Mammon at that time; The fear of his power pushed you to agree.

ᯓ Mammon, who had been spying on you since they day you came into his Ring of Greed, without your knowledge. Had always held a fascination about you, and the way you consumed and toyed with his mind, making him feel like you were worth than any amount of money or gold in the world. Which was ridiculous, as he knew for a fact you wouldn't be worth much, even if he did make you a marketable sex toy. Fizz? He was worth money, he was worth time, he was worth so much more than you and yet... when Mammon looked at you, heard your laughter, saw your smile and the way you just lived your life, you were suddenly worth more than anything he could get his grimy, greedy hands on.

ᯓ You became all he wanted to get his greedy hands on; And when Mammon wants something, he will get it, even if it meant he had to use force. So killing a Lover, that was something he was willing to do if it meant you would love him. Surely you could look past that and love him all the same!

ᯓ At first, you were like Mammon's little play thing. Sure, he loved you deep to his core, so much so it terrified you cold, but he could tell you didn't love him back. Not yet. So he showed you all the reasons you should love him over your past Lover, even if he knew they couldn't play this fun little game right back: He would take you out on the town, made sure you were dressed in the most expensive and flashing and tight fitting clothes in all of the nine rings! He took you to expensive restaurants, on fancy excursions, and basically became like a sugar daddy just to prove himself. All the while also acting like a body guard, stabbing anyone with one of his many spider-like legs if they dared get to close to either of you. He would buy you fancy gifts, he would show you luxurious nights in bed, he would even introduce you to the other Sins as his lover to solidify your place.

ᯓ All he needed was your love! And you should have just gave it to him from the start!... but, playing this little game is fun too. Even though he was making sure it would be temporary.

ᯓ To say you were too scared to leave Mammon at first was would be an understatement; You were blood-cold terrified.

ᯓ Yet, little did you know that the influence you had in Mammon's brain was greater than you or him had ever thought. Now, Mammon knew will you were constantly on his brain, that he was constantly seeking for you in every room, that he was drunk off your presence along and that he never wanted you to leave his side! Hell, he would have killed you if you ever tried!... at first.

ᯓ Though there's a weird thing that happens when you're both deeply in love with someone and around them all the time, not allowing them to venture far from your side. Something that is so extraordinary that it can't be completely summed up or explained in words. It's like, you slowly start realizing how to love. That was the best word to describe it as. It's something that wasn't caught on at first, something that slowly inched it's way in and changed the way you and Mammon functioned together. And it was weird but wonderful all at the same time. Where Mammon only cared about showing and flashing you off, he slowly started to notice what you did and didn't like to eat. At first he brushed it off, but soon found himself ordering your favorite meal from any choice restaurant when you weren't with him, which is a rare occasion, just to taste it. Just to remind him of you. Then it turned into appreciation, small but encroaching. Whether he would notice the small things you do in the background, even if you didn't fully love him, which made his life a whole lot easier; Which made Fizz a whole lot happier, which made him a whole lot more money. How you always knew what he wanted and needed after a long day, how you fetched it for him just because he looked tired. Just because it was nice. And all these slow baby steps, of learning how to love and not yearn for someone, changed you both for the better. More so Mammon than you.

ᯓ Think of your relationship now more like Gomez and Morticia Addams; In a weird, still fucked up way.

ᯓ Mammon didn't exactly worship the ground you walked on, but he did worship you a lot more than before. Always having you in front row seats at his show, or if he was judging sat upon his lap like a Princess. In which would leave him to his own greedy, grimy thoughts and before you knew you, small peppers up your arm turned to kisses on the neck, and then Mammon having you straddle his waist as he took the air from your lungs; Kissing you with all the greed of the world, yet passion as well. He was hungry for you.

ᯓ He was starving.

ᯓ He was both possessive, largely so, and protective of you. You were not let outside the house without Mammon or some sort of guard, not that he trusted them entirely. While he didn't want you to get hurt, or damaged, he also didn't want your body to be on display for other eyes if he wasn't there. Your body was all his, and while people can gawk at it and stare all they want, he will be right there snickering and sneering at them. He will always be there.

ᯓ He is big on PDA, big on showing everyone who you belong do, big on showing you off, big on making sure people knew no one could touch you as long as he was here, big on making everyone know you were kid... but Big on making sure you were happy too. Even if he is an asshole and loved to make sexist jokes or laugh at and with you at the most inappropriate times or say he's going to make a sex doll of you because it would turn in such a profit!- (Which he would never, your body, especially the best fucking part, was only his.) -He still cares enough to care about you and your happiness.

ᯓ He's a douche, but a loveable douche; You just might need to teach him some proper manners, or else all your clothes might as well be covered from the blood of every sinner in Hell.

ᯓ You actually used to date Vox, used to be seated right next to him in his TV programs, helping run his show behind the scenes, helping him with his frustrations; Basically, being an unpaid worker and doing it all just because you knew it helped Vox. It made his day less stressful, it allowed him to relax. Sure he could have been overbearing at times, a little possessive even around the V's, yet he was generally a good lover and you enjoyed his company.

ᯓ Yet you had to put your foot down and end your relationship with him due to this possessive attitude. You had found it cute at first, though when he went as far as to threaten and stalk one of your siblings, because he thought they were way too close to you, you couldn't handle it. Even more so when he tried to gaslight you, basically shouting out: "No sibling should EVER be that fucking close to each other! He was fucking touching you, and I'm not going to fucking stand for it, you hear me?" And he had never shouted at you before, even while frustrated. So it had taken you aback a little, even more so when you say how his eyes widened, how a twisted grin strung itself on his face. He wasn't Vox; He wasn't your Vox. "So it's either ME or THEM. Pick wisely here." This wasn't the Vox you had fallen in love with. The charming man who was chivalrous, who had an award winning smile, who made you swoon and laugh, who you could talk to for hours even if he ranted about everything that annoyed him during the day. This wasn't him, he wouldn't be grabbing your face as he was now, harsh and indenting, basically breaking skin and causing you to bleed on his hands. Staring at you with a crazed look, making you choose between him and your family, making accusations that your siblings had incestual interested in you! "You're crazy." The words left you winded, like all the air had been knocked out of your lungs in one sad attempt to voice yourself. A sad attempt it was indeed, and you knew that as soon as Vox let out a growl and forcefully shoved your head to the side, effectively knocking you down to the floor. This wasn't him, the thought continued to swirl around your head as your body scrapped across the polished floor. As you shook a hand out, attempting to crawl away from Vox, attempted to escape anything else he might through your way to let him cool down by himself. Yet, a pain yell was the only reward of that fruitless effort of yours from Vox slamming and digging his foot into the middle of your back. Tears prickled in your eyes, a choked out sob, as you could barely make out the glitched words that spewed out of Vox's mouth.

ᯓ "What the FUCK did you just say to me, bitch?!"

ᯓ Safe to say your family and friends had to get involved, had to help you sneak out in the middle of the night and place you under protection. You knew better than to forgive Vox after something like that, his act completely and utterly broke all the trust you had for him; And if he hit you once, he would hit you again. So you stayed far away from The V's corner of the Pride ring, far, far away; And slowly you started the process of healing, of learning how to do life without Vox at your side, of learning how to not be afraid he might turn up, of learning how to live again.

ᯓ You didn't realize how much he had drained you mentally and physically over the course of your relationship, as it was all hidden as acts and gestures of love; Of nights alone, cuddling in the dead of night while no one else knew. Of drinking glasses of wine, watching some late night program or ranting about your shitty lives. Of hanging out with the rest of the V's and of going out with Vox and feeling like you were on top of the world!

ᯓ And slowly you started to feel safe again, after months and months had past with no Vox, you started to go outside with more confidence and by your own; You ventured and you saw and you thought you were safe. Vox couldn't hurt you any longer, Vox had no more control over you, Vox didn't care about you anymore so why should you care about him! He can go suck some power Overlord's cock and get his power through the people he keeps around him. He can go fuck off because you didn't need him anymore.

ᯓ But, oh, Vox needed you.

ᯓ And you didn't know, you couldn't know, that he's been tracking every step you took outside your home; Silently listening to all your conversations, silently always being there, inches away from you, foaming at the mouth with the idea of having you again. Yet waiting. Always waiting for the perfect moment to strike. And now you're alone, and you're unnoticed in a crowd of sinners, and you're in perfect range...

ᯓ And you'll be his soon enough.

ᯓ You don't remember much after heading into that store. You don't even remember leaving it. In fact, you didn't remember much, and any events that happened after you had entered that store kind of blurred together in a hasty mist. All you could remember is that you had gone in, attempting to find a new camera or laptop for your sibling; Who had been just crawling up your ass, bugging you about the latest technology that had came out and how it would do wonders for their career... that and you knew they just wanted a new laptop or camera, even though theirs worked perfectly fine. And yet, you cannot remember if you even managed to get to the camera or laptop section before everything god mudded and hazed.

ᯓ "Well, fuck me in the ass, you're awake!" And then an all too familiar voice rang out in the room, which you hadn't taken to notice you were in. A room, your eyes shot up to take it in, that was unmistakably familiar; A bedroom. His bedroom; Where you were tied in on a plush chair, where he had made his way over to you. Where he now, grabbing the arm rests of the chair, leaned tauntingly over your smalling frame, with that crazed smile. Oh that smile, one that used to live in your dreams, first welcomed and then hauntingly. That smile that made you coward down and away, paired with those crazed, piercing eyes. "No no," Vox would then coo, reaching his clawed hands up to cup your cheeks. His actions were gentle and sweet, like he was holding a glass vase that could be destroyed even with the slightest pressure added down onto it. "Hey, hey, look at me. I'm not going to hurt you... look at me, Darling."

ᯓ And yet you didn't meet Vox's eyes, you couldn't, and instead Vox would helplessly watch as you cowered away from him and flinching at his honeyed touch; As you feared him. Feared.. HIM! The one man who has silently killed everyone who had crossed your path, everyone who had made you uncomfortable, everyone who dared tried to through anything your fucking way he killed them all! For you...

ᯓ AND YOU DARED FUCKING COWER AWAY FROM HIM LIKE HE WOULD HURT YOU?!

ᯓ "I SAID FUCKING LOOK AT ME!" Snapped Vox as a sudden, sharp, pain stabbed into your cheek, causing you to choke out in pain, as Vox forcefully snapped your neck towards him; Forcing you to look him directly in the eye. You saw the way his left eye was wide open, swirling black lines around his pupil. That crazed look, it painted his face, and yet something inside of you was coaxing you that it was okay. That he was crazy because he cared, because he loved you, because he wanted you to be safe...

ᯓ Because he was sorry.

ᯓ The voice was strong, it pounded against your head even as you knew logically it wasn't that; None of what that invading, creeping, engulfing voice said true! Vox wasn't sorry for his actions, he never would be, he was, and is, boiling and pissed and controlling. He was a man who got what he wanted when he wanted because he forced it that way. And yet, the voice was so coaxing and sweet... And you watched though a fuzzy mind as Vox slowly kneeled down in front of your chair. Where you even tied up anymore? You could barely tell. Gently, his hands slid down your face, the blood cascading down with them, as he felt your figure against his hands once more. And slowly, gently, still staring up at you, he took your hands in his. He played with something cold, solid, against your hand, a wedding ring, silently twirling it around your finger as a honeyed smiled sunk onto his lips, "Honey, sweetie," His voice started, glitching out slightly before leveling back out, "I'm so, so sorry for scaring you. Really, I didn't mean to hurt you, I was just frustrated and upset-" There was a break in his speech, allowing for a chuckle to slip through, "-and we both know I can get unreasonable when I'm upset. I promise, it won't happen again, Darling, so.. come back home, please."

ᯓ Something in the back of your head was trying to shout and claw it's way through, trying to break through the skin and flesh of your brain and bleed out it's words and thoughts. Yet it never came to fruition, as the thought past by like a cloud drifting off in the wind from a flutter in your chest. A grin seeping onto your face, "Vox.." You would mumble, tone sweet and loving and forgiving; forgetting; Forgetting what he had put you through, the pain and the suffering you had to bear alone. Forgetting how he plastered your face on TV screens for weeks on end, bashing you to all of the Pride Ring to hear. Forgetting how he had cracked your spine all those months ago. Forgetting, not forgiving. "...I'm sorry for leaving in the first place."

ᯓ And in that moment, Vox knew something you didn't know: He, had, won. You were his, sure under the power of his little mind control, but you were his again and he was yours. And no one, and nothing, is going to ever take you away from him ever again.

ᯓ He'll make sure of it. You wouldn't miss your family anyways, you wouldn't even remember them!

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samandcolbyownme · 9 months ago

Text

Summary: a request by @morchilluv - "we definitely need a slow burn story of Sam and the reader with some sexual tension and being smutty"

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, kind of a sad slow burn romance, a dash of sexual tension (I feel like I make up for it), flirting, real feelings being masked, not so secret jealously, passive aggressive comments/actions, slightly angsty, biting, scratching, hair pulling, unprotected passionate sex, filth

Word count: 8.6k | NOT edited

I didn't mean for this to be as sad as it actually is, but I like it regardless. Sorry if it's not exactly what the request asks, I tried!

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

YOUNGER YEARS

Your family has always been friends with Sam's family, so naturally, anytime there was a party, you and Sam would always run off to hang out.

You had a massive crush on him, and since you were young, you didn't really know how well to conceal it, so your cheeks were always red and your smile never faded with him.

You had a habit of taking pictures, the sunsets, the clouds, animals. You even have multiple blurry pictures of the moon. You took pictures of literally anything that made you happy, and eventually, you got comfortable enough with taking pictures of Sam any time you wanted to.

He always posed or smiled, but that was always when he knew you were taking a picture. He'd even send you selfies throughout the day on days you weren't hanging out.

You snapped canid pictures of him, too. One of your favorites is him playing the guitar.

You were just kids at the time, not really knowing what love was exactly, but you knew that you didn't want to be without him, even if you were just friends.

That's what it was for a while. You mainly had his attention, even when he did get a girlfriend or talked to a girl. It was puppy, middle school love, so it never really lasted long.

Eventually, Colby started to hang out with you guys, becoming the trio that you are today, but we'll get into that.

Colby would always tease you about liking Sam. He knew before Sam ever did, which honestly to you, took a while for him to understand, or so you thought.

As you became friends for some time, Sam started to flirt back on occasion, mainly when it was just the two of you. When Colby was around, or anyone else for the matter, he wouldn't flirt.

He treated you like he treated Colby, on some levels that is, and it was like that for a while.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Sam and Colby grew big on Vine, quickly building a platform for themselves on YouTube.

You weren't in any of their videos, mainly because you just thought it was weird and you didn't think you could do it.

They've tried and tried again to get you to join them, and you did for maybe one or two videos, but you just sat back mostly, helping them with certain ideas and skits.

You were the girl who always got accused of being one of their girlfriends because you were always with them.

For a while you all took turns replying to certain tweets, denying it, but eventually, you all came to the realization that with fame, comes persistent fans, so all three of you decided to just let people think what they wanted.

You still wished that the rumors between you and Sam would come true, being a teenage girl, you were always told that a girl shouldn't chase a guy, but before you actually realized it, that's exactly what you were doing.

Once graduation hit, you moved from the place you grew up in, to LA.

Sam and Colby got a nice, lavish apartment, with an extra bedroom for editing and one for you, of course.

You traveled with them. Explored with them.

You really became a big part of the 'XPLR' team and an even bigger part of you fell deeper in love with Sam.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

PRESENT DAY

Sam has been heavy on your mind lately, mainly because you thought it was finally time to tell him how you were really feeling.

For years, you've convinced yourself that he knew and liked you, too. The constant flirting back and forth, finding yourself in moments to where you weren't really sure what was going to happen, but it was full of tension, but in a good way.

Sexual tension.

It was there, always surrounding the two of you at the best such as when you're filming a reaction video and he the way he looks at you is just pure lust, or even when you're at home, watching a movie and a sex scene comes on.

Your mind instantly goes to recreating it Sam, and the way he looks at you makes you think that he has those same thoughts with you.

Then there's the worst times, where you're out with friends, drinking. You take one tipsy look at Sam and you feel like you're done for. The only thing stopping you is completely making a fool out of not really yourself, but Sam.

So as usual, it doesn't go anywhere but shoved to the back of your mind.

You kept falling in love with him all over again, doing whatever it took to keep him in your life, but then everything took a turn and you suddenly felt yourself almost hating him.

Girl after girl, situation after situation, you found yourself wanting to distance yourself, save yourself from a massive heartbreak, but it was a little too late for that.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Where are you going?" Sam asks, looking up at you as you get up from your chair.

"To get a drink." You laugh, "You want one?"

He nods, looking back down at his phone, "Yeah, can you bring me one of those strawberry smoothie things?" You purse your lips, "I think there's only one left."

He looks up from his phone dropping it into his lap, "Really?" You nod, "Yeah and that's what I was going to get."

After a few seconds of silence, you find yourself racing to the kitchen, trying to beat Sam to the fridge. He grabs your waist, pulling you back and spinning you away from the door, "No, it's mine!"

You turn, pushing him backwards, "No! I wanted it first!" You laugh, "It's mine!"

He wraps his arm around your waist, lifting you up so your feet are just off the floor, "No, no. It's mine." He walks you back to the couch and throws you onto it with a laugh, "Stay!"

He turns, running towards the kitchen but you leap off the couch, catching up to him and jumping onto his back.

His hands grip the back of your thighs, "Big mistake, missy."

You cover his eyes, "Oh yeah? Try finding the fridge now." He laughs, reaching one arm out in front of him, "You act like I don't have this kitchen engraved in my mind."

He walks over to the fridge and you extend an arm out, trying to stop him. He reaches up, you still clung to his back, and pulls your hand from his face, "Just.." he opens the door, "Let me.." he groans as he reaches forward for the bottle, "Have it!"

"No! It's mine!" You can't help but laugh, "Sam!"

He leans back and you slam your hands to his chest as you feel like you're going to fall, "No! Don't do that!"

He laughs and walks back, "Sit."

"No." You tighten your legs and he sighs, "Fine, we can stay here all day. I don't care." He laughs and you tilt your head, leaning over to look at him, "I'll sit.. if you promise to share it with me."

He sighs, "You're asking a lot." He smiles and looks over at you, "fine."

You hold out your pinky, "Promise."

He brings his hand up, locking his pinky with yours, "I promise."

You slide off his back onto the counter, keeping your eyes on him as he walks forward to the fridge and grabs the bottle.

He turns around, pretending like he's going to run away and you move forward, stopping when he stops, "Ha! Gotcha!"

"I hate you." You smile, rolling your eyes as you sit back comfortably, "Now, give me some." You reach out and he walks over, standing between your knees.

You take a quiet breath, looking up at him as he cracks open the drink.

You've always wanted him to fuck you on the counter. Every time you're in the kitchen with him, you have hopes of him just bending you over and-

"Y/n." Sam waves his hand in front of your face and you blink, "Hmm?"

"I said here." He holds the open drink up and you laugh, "Oh, yeah. Sorry." You take it, bringing it up to your lips.

"What are you doing? Daydreaming about me?" He teases with a smirk and you about choke on your drink, "Mm." You cover your mouth with your wrist, "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

He shrugs, "That depends."

"On what?" You tilt your head, taking a sip again and he sighs, laying his hands on your knees, "Tell me and I'll tell you."

"Mm, I see." You nod, "Okay. I was daydreaming about you... giving me the rest of this drink."

"I'll give you the rest of something." He mumbles before snatching the half full drink from your hand. He drink a little bit more of it, keeping his eyes on you as he tilts his head back slightly.

"Please do." You smirk and he shakes his head, "You'd like that too much." He hands you the drink back and steps back, "I'm going to go edit."

You let out a quiet sigh, "Okay."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

A Few Hours Later

"What are you guys thinking for dinner?" Colby asks as he walks into the editing room. You sit up from the bed, glancing at Sam, "I honestly have no idea."

"Are we going out to eat or?" Sam leans back, spinning around in the chair to face Colby.

Colby nods, "I mean, how else are we going to celebrate that we got a yes to explore the place everyone else gets a no from."

Sam jumps up from the chair, "What!?" He lays a hand on his head, "Are you fucking kidding me? Are you fucking with me?"

You smile, watching Sam get exited like a kid in a candy store, "I don't think he's joking, Sam."

"Show me." Sam walks over, "Show me, that god dang email." He watches intently as Colby taps on his screen, "Now do you believe me?"

Sam takes a step backwards, "Do you know what this is going to do for us, Colby?" His eyes move to you and your smile grows smaller.

It's always been hot and cold with you and Sam.

One minute you could be inches away from kissing, then the next he's taking some girl to an abandoned zoo to hang out.

You think that it's because he probably doesn't know you like him, but then at the same time, you also think, how the fuck doesn't he know?

"Congratulations guys." You say getting up from the bed, "I'm proud of you both." You go to walk out, but stop when you feel a hand on your shoulder, "and where do you think you're going?"

You laugh slightly, turning around, "To my room?"

"It better be to get dressed because you're coming, too." Sam smiles and you tilt your head, "Really?"

Colby steps in, "Y/n. You have been with us from the start. You've helped us crack some of the cases we weren't even sure we could. You're a vital part of this, so yes. Of course you're coming."

You nod, "Okay. I'll go get ready." You slowly turn and walk to your room, Colby's speech replaying in your head.

You loved both of them, Colby platonically, Sam, not so much.

You'd be his if he asked, in a heartbeat. You've loved that man since you first laid eyes on him in middle school.

But it's never been you.

You sit down at your vanity, cycling through your lip sticks as you decide on what color dress you should wear tonight.

"Hey." Sam's voice is quiet and you turn around, "Can we talk?" You nod, setting down the lipstick tube, "What's up, Sam?"

He walks over, sitting on the end of your bed. He chews on the inside of his cheek, "So, I'm thinking about inviting someone to dinner and I figured that maybe you can help her feel comfortable throughout the night? Talk with her, ya know. Be her friend?"

You're kind of shocked, but you shouldn't be. Yes, Sam shows interests in you, but it's mainly when there's not someone else trying to get his attention.

As much as you don't want to feel like a second choice, that's honestly how you end up feeling at the end of the day.

"Yeah." You smile, lying through your teeth, "Not a problem at all."

"Really?" He sighs, "Thank you. She's kind of nervous because you know how people are, and if it gets out that we're ce-"

"I know how it goes Sam." You laugh slightly, "Don't worry about it."

"I owe you one." He stands up, giving you a smile as he turns and walks away. You turn back to the mirror and see him stop.

You watch as he turns around, leaning against the doorframe, "You should wear the white dress." He knocks on the frame and smirks before he disappears.

You sit there, analyzing the situation, which you know you shouldn't do because it's just going to drive you insane, like why tell you what dress to wear?

What's it matter?

You huffed, taking a deep breath as you switch on your curling iron. You set it down, giving it time to heat up by getting all of your makeup that you're going to use out.

You paint your lips in the deep red color, smirking as you know it'll go good with that ivory white color.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

After curling your hair, you stand up, walking over to your closet and opening the doors. You push through the clothes, eyes dragging up and down every other dress option until you reach that certain one.

You take it off the hanger, turning around to lay it on your bed. You walk over to the door, getting ready to close it, when Colby's hand stops it from closing completely.

"Colby?" You question and open the door a bit more, "I'm getting ready to change."

He nods, "It'll be quick, I just want to make sure you're good."

You give him a confused look, "I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?"

He shrugs, "I just know big dinners aren't really your thing, so I just wanted to-"

"I'm good, Colbs. Thank you." You give him a smile, knowing that that isn't why he asked. You've been tied at the hip with them for years.

He knows you like the back of his hand, but he never wants to push to get answers from you. He knows you'll come to him if it ever came down to it.

You close the door and turn out, letting out a sigh because you weren't fine. If you didn't have such great self control, you would have smacked sense into Sam when he was sitting on the end of your bed.

You walk over, taking off your clothes to replace them with the beautiful ivory dress in front of you. It was a chiffon wrap dress with mesh sleeves, and to say the least, you were in love with it.

You walk over, bending down to find a pair of heels to match, and quickly enough, you found a pair right on top.

You make sure you have everything you need for the night before flicking the lights off as you walk out of your room.

Colby whistles as you walk down the steps and you smirk, "Boosting my ego, are we?" You walk over to him and he shrugs, "Like it's my job." He laughs and leans back against the counter to check his phone, "Yo Sam! We gotta get going, brotha."

You've got to be kidding me, you think as Sam walks down the steps. He's wearing a, pretty much, all white outfit. The only thing that isn't white are his shoes and the zipper on his jacket.

Same ivory color as your dress.

"Are we ready?" Sam asks as he opens his gold glasses to put them on. Colby laughs, "We were waiting for you, so question is." Colby points to Sam, "Are you ready?"

Sam laughs and runs his hand through his hair, "Let's do it."

You follow them towards the door and they let you walk out first. You stop before the steps, waiting for them to shut and lock the door.

You follow Colby down the steps towards the car, Sam following behind you. Colby opens your door, letting you get in first.

You sit in the back row with Colby. Sam in the row in front of you guys because, you know, he has a date and all.

"Where to?" The driver asks and Sam hums, "Mm. One second." You watch over his shoulder as he asks some, Lylah, what her address is.

Colby nudges you and you look back at him. He smiles as he shakes his head, mouthing, "What are you doing?"

You lean back, whispering to him, "Just being nosey."

You laugh, along with Colby and Sam turns around, "Secrets don't make friends you know." You raise your brows, looking down to pick at your dress with your fingers, "Lots of things don't make friends, Sam."

You force a laugh, trying to not make it seem as deep as it really is, to you at least.

You can feel Colby stare at you as Sam tells the driver where he's supposed to go and you just shake your head.

You didn't have to talk to Colby about anything, because he already knew.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You come to a stop outside a rich looking apartment building, it looks like a fancy hotel.

Sam gets out and you bend down, leaning over Colby as you peer out the window, "Shit." You whisper quietly.

"Do you know this girl, Colby?" You ask leaning back up. Colby shrugs, "I've met her once, I think? It was when we were going meet and greets, she came and hung out with us with for the day, but I barely spoke to her."

"Hmm. Okay." You nod, leaning back against the seat, watching from the corner of your eye as Sam and his lady friend walk around to get in.

There's a perfectly good door.. right there, you think, rolling your eyes subtly as her head dips into view, "Hi Colby."

"Hey. How are ya?" Colby nods and she sits down with a sigh, "I'm actually doing pretty good." Her eyes move to you, "Hi y/n." She tilts her head, "I love the dress you're wearing."

Sam gets in, glancing back at you after closing the door.

Yeah, Sam told me to wear it, is what you want to say, "Thank you, it's the chiffon wrap dress from the new collection that just dropped from Zelenki's."

"Oh, yes! I love their clothing. I just bought a pair of jeans from there the other day. I'm super excited to see them." She smiles, turning towards Sam, "We need to get this guy on their site. He would look so good in some of their button ups."

She points to Sam and you nod, "Yeah, I'm sure he would."

Her face kinda falls for a second before she blinks and brushes her bangs from her face, "So where are we going to celebrate?"

"We decided on Ambiance." Colby says and she claps her hands together, "I love going there." She looks at you, "Y/n, if you're into alcohol, they have the best martini's."

You nod, "You bet I'll be drinking tonight."

Colby taps your leg, trying not to laugh, and you shrug, "To celebrate these guys getting the deal of a lifetime."

"Well, I wouldn't say t- well, you know what. We can say that." Sam laughs, smiling as he looks back at Colby.

Colby reaches up, patting Sam's shoulder, "This year is going to be sick for us."

After arriving to the restaurant, you get out and stand next to Colby. Sam and Lylah walk around and you have to look away, because if you don't, your face will give it away that you think her dress is completely ridiculous.

It looks like a prom dress that's been cut at the thigh.

"Pretty dress." You force a smile and she slides her hand down the front to smooth it out, "Thanks. Sam actually told me to wear it, he said he wanted to do a blue and white thing to kind of match."

Her eyes graze up and down your dress, moving to Sam's outfit as she lays her hand on his chest. You can tell that it really bothers her that you and Sam are the ones who are actually matching.

It's written all over her face.

"Alright." Colby claps his hands together, "Let's go in, because I'm hungry." He wraps his arm around your waist, leading you inside a head of Sam and Laylah.

"Brock and Golbach." Colby tells the host and he nods, "Ah yes. Right this way please."

You follow Colby through the sea of tables, making your way to the one room in the back corner.

"Your waitress will be right with you." The host nods and walks away.

Colby pulls your chair out, allowing you to sit before taking his seat next to yours. Sam sits in front of Colby, Layla in front of you.

"So, she leans forward, the martini I was talking about was this one." She points her pink painted nail onto the little card, "The chocolate martini. It's to die for."

Colby sniffles, hinting that you need to be nice, so you smile, "I think that's what I'll get then. Put your trust to the test." You wink at her and lean back, looking down at your menu.

You really did want to be nice to her, but mainly because Sam asked you to. But, at the same time, he doesn't see what's right in front of him, so you also wanted to kind of give him a, hey, fuck you.

"The pomegranate martini is also really good." You look up at her and she tilts her, "Well then I guess I'll have to put your trust to the test." She smiles and you laugh slightly with a nod, "Alright then."

As time goes on, more friends of Sam and Colby come in, joining the table. Everyone orders and now you're conversing back and forth with different people.

Every so often, your eyes will move towards Sam, and his eyes will meet yours.

Every time, you ask yourself why, and even how can he be so blind?

Colby lays his arm on the top of your chair, Sam's eyes following his movements before bringing his glass to his lips. He looks over at Laylah, leaning in to take a selfie with her.

He smiles that beautiful smile and you force yourself to look away.

"so y/n. Will you be joining the boys on this exciting trip?" Laylah sets her phone down, folding her arms over one another as she leans forward.

You look between Sam and Colby, shrugging slightly, "It's ultimately up to them, but I would lo-"

Sam and Colby speak at the same time, cutting you off, "She's coming."

Not only you, but Laylah raises her brows too, "Well I guess that answers that." She laugh, bringing her wide mouthed glass to her lips, finishing the rest of her drink, "I'm going to go get another one, y/n. Care to join?"

You reach down, grabbing your glass and finishing it, "I would love to." You smile, rising from your seat, smiling to the others as you walk around the long and full table.

"So, anything new with you?" She asks as you walk up to the bar. You shrug, "Nothing really." You laugh, "I mean, nothing more than the trips to investigate the ghostly world."

She nods, "I could never do that." She looks away to raise a hand to the bartender then back to you, "Is it really as scary as the videos make it seem?"

You nod, "Oh yeah. It's one thing to watch it through a screen but it's another thing to actually be there and witness it."

She nods, "Yeah I bet." She turns, "I'll have another pomagranete martini, and she'll have.." she points to you and you lean in, "Make it two."

The bartender nods and Laylah turns back to you, "So I don't really know how to ask this." She laughs, "Um."

"Just ask. I'm an open book." You smile and your smile quickly fades when the words leave her lips, "Clearly."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You tilt your head, slightly confused as to what changed. She clears her throat, "If you have a thing for Sam, I'm going to need you to drop it."

"If I have a- what? What the hell are you talking about?" You laugh, "I don't have a thing for Sam."

"Then why did you dress to match him? Why is it that I find you looking at him every time you think I'm not looking?" She sighs, "I get it, Sam is very, very handsome, and it's okay to be a little jealous, but can you not let your jealousy seep through, because if it happens anymore, it'll literally stain my dress."

You stand there, completely dumbfounded in silence.

She turns, "Oh, thank you." She grabs the glasses, handing one to you, "Cheers." She winks and starts walking back to the table.

You follow her, your cheeks heating up as you become angry at what just happened. You take a calming breath before you pass through the doors, putting on a smile as you walk back around to your seat.

"Everything go okay?" Sam asks and Laylah smiles, glancing up at you, "Oh yeah. Everything is just perfect." She leans over, pressing a kiss to his cheek and you clench your jaw.

You bring your glass to your lips and take a long sip.

"Attention, everyone." Someone at the end of the table stands up as they clink their glass. You lean forward, looking around Colby to see and you smile when you see their friend standing there.

"I just want to say a huge congratulations to Sam and Colby for landing this investigation. This is going to be one of the biggest investigations they've ever done and I cannot be more proud of them, so without further ado, please. Give my pals a huge, huge round of applause."

Sam and Colby stand up, smiling and batting their hands. You reach out, grabbing your phone so you can record a story for Instagram.

You smile as you type the words, congratulations guys. You deserve this so, so, so much!

You tag them and set your phone back down after posting. Colby leans in, "You're a part of this, too. Don't let them saying just us fool you."

You really felt like part of the team, that was until you got back from Italy, but that'll come with time.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

After dinner and an hour or two of talking about Poveglia, the four of you make your way back to the car.

"How long will you be in Italy for?" Laylah asks laying her hand on Sam's shoulder. She twirls his hair around her finger and you roll your eyes as you look away.

"A few days, four at most. We planned on seeing Venice again while we're over that way." Sam looks at her, giving her a smile.

She smiles, her eyes glancing back at you before she runs her hair through his hair, "Do you know when you leave?"

You and Colby look at each other, giving each other a look of disgust.

You knew what she was doing, and she knew it, too.

Sam shrugs, "Probably not for another week or so."

"So we have time to spend together before you flee the country." She giggles, "I mean, that's only if you want to."

Sam nods, "I mean.. I don't see why not." He chuckles and points, "Here, I'll walk you to the door." Sam opens the door when the driver stops and helps her out.

As soon as the door shuts, word vomit.

"When I went up to bar with her to get another drink, she cornered me and pretty much flipped out on me. She said that if I have a thing for Sam I need to drop it and then asked why I dressed to match him and then she said that I took any chance I got when she wasn't look, or I thought she wasn't looking to look at him and then to top it off she said that if anymore jealously seeped out of me it would literally stain her dress."

You take a breath and look at Colby who's staring at you, "I'm sorry, what?"

"She basically sa-" you stop talking as soon as the door opens again, and Sam gets back in, turning around to look at you, "So did you have fun?"

"Oh yeah." You raise your brows, "So much fun."

The driver starts to drive you guys back home.

"Are you okay?" Sam asks and you look up, ready to snap but you bite your tongue, "I'm fine, I just.. have a headache."

"Mm." Sam nods and turns back around. He brings his phone up, "What the fuck?"

"What's going on, Sam?" Colby asks and Sam face his phone towards you and Colby, "She's literally blowing up my phone."

"Why?" You ask, and Sam scoffs, "Why is she saying that you cornered her at the bar?"

"I didn't. If you want the truth she cornered me. I literally just told Colby everything that happened as soon as you got out." You motion towards Colby, "She accused me of liking you and basically said that I dressed to match you on purpose which, Sam. If I'm correct. You told me to wear this fucking dress."

"Let's not argue in here, please." Colby says trying to defuse the situation.

"Who said we're arguing?" You and Sam say the same time and you both huff.

"Exactly." Colby shakes his head, "Can we just wait until we get h-"

"Why would she say that you did though?" Sam looks at you and you shrug, "I don't know, maybe because she knows that we're close and I was bound to tell you?"

"Were you going to tell me?" Sam tilts his head and you shake your head, "No."

"Why?"

"Because Sam. I don't really think it matters, does it." You snap and the driver awkwardly puts his hand up, "You guys are uh.." he clears his throat, "Home."

"Thank you." You all say in unison. Colby gets out and helps you out and Sam comes around, ready to keep going but you walk away.

"Really?" He says loudly, "You're just going to walk away?" We need to talk about this."

"Can we do this inside?" Colby tries again but you stop in your tracks, turning around on your heels to walk back to him, "Do you really want to know why it's really not that important Sam?"

"Guys come on." Colby groans, "Please."

Ignoring Colby, Sam nods, "Yeah. I really do."

"Because you're bound to take your new girlfriend's side anyway, so why does hearing my side even matter?" You throw your arms up, "I've been trying to get-"

You stop talking and Sam tilts his head, "Trying to get what, y/n." Sam says plainly and you snort, "I don't even.." you shake your head, "You're so blind to certain things in front of you, that you just.."

You shake your head, "I can't do this. I can't do this right now." You blink away the tears that are forming quickly and turn to go inside.

Colby is standing there with the door already open and you barge past him. Sam on your tail calling out for you, "Y/n. Wait. Wait."

You stop halfway up the steps, "it doesn't. Matter. Sam. What don't you get."

He gets pissed, "Fine. Then don't fucking tell me. If you just want to run from this like you run from everything else th-" he stops talking, quickly coming to the realization that what he said was not what he wanted to come out.

You stand there, letting the tears you tried to blink away, fall, "Fuck. You."

You turn, running up to your room, shutting the door with a slam. You grab a suitcase, sobbing as you begin to throw clothes into it.

You hear footsteps come to your door and you sniffle, holding your breath so you can try and hear who it is.

There's a knock and you sigh, nose stuffy, "Go away, Sam." You wipe your cheek with your palm and Colby speaks from the other side of the door, "It's not Sam."

You take a second, hesitating to open the door but you give in. You walk over, cracking the door open and walking away to sit on your bed.

He slips in, not opening the door more than he has to, "Hey."

You sniffle, laughing slightly, "Hey."

He walks over, sitting next to you, "Are you-"

He stops talking as you look at him with a mascara streaked face. He nods, "Right. Yeah." You shake your head, looking towards the door, "What happened to us?"

"Us? You and me were fine." He smirks and you smile slightly, "You know what I mean."

He nods, "I don't think anything happened, y/n. I think.." he pauses and you look at him, "Just say it. I know you already know so just.." you push your hands out in front of you, "Lay it on me. Can't do much more damage."

"I'm just going to tell you what I think is happening, and you can correct me if I'm wrong, okay?" He look at you and you nod.

He nods, "Okay, so what I think happened, is that you are sick of Sam not seeing that you're in love with him."

Colby's words hurt, and the fact that they're true, makes it hurt even worse.

You nod, silently as you try not to cry.

"I also think, now, I love Sam to death, and I will tell you in true honestly that I did call him out on this, but I think Sam has led you on in a way." Colby looks over to the door and back to you.

"He's not on the other side of the door listening is he?" You point to it and Colby shakes his head, "No. he's in his room, waiting for his turn with therapist Colby."

You laugh slightly, taking in a sharp breath as your urge to cry comes back, "I just.." your voice cracks with your words, "I can't keep doing this."

"I know." Colby whispers, laying his arm around your shoulder, "I know."

"The constant flirting, him telling me to wear a dress that matches him without even telling me it matches and then completely blindsiding me with, oh he wanted to do a blue and white matching theme, fuck that."

You stand up, "I just don't-" you lay your hand on your face, "We go from being so close to kissing to this?" You gently fling your arms, "I jus-" you take a deep breath, "Have fun in Italy, call me when you can."

You zip your suit case and Colby grabs it, "No, I want you to come."

"I can't be around him, Colby. As much as I want to, I just.. it'll ruin everything."

"Everything already is ruined. Sam isn't going to forgive himself for what he said." Colby stands up and you shrug, "He can figure that out on his own. I'm done trying to get myself out of these feelings. I'm done trying to act like it's okay for him to hug me from behind then act like we're friends who just met, I'm just.. done trying to get him to love me.."

You look at Colby, "I'm done trying."

Colby frowns, "Y/n."

"I'm serious Colby, I'll come get the rest of my stuff when you guys leave for Italy." You pull the handle out from your suitcase and shake your head, "Make sure to tell him everything I said."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

It's been two days since they've left for Italy.

As you're lying in bed, in your room at their house, your pillow soaked from your tears that you can't turn off, your mind slips into the good memories of you and Sam.

"No. You can't be serious, Sam." You laugh, reaching across his body for grab a card.

He watches you as you slowly lean back, "What's it say?"

"It says.. what was the last dirty message you received?" You bite your lip and tilt your head. He copies your motion and raises his eyebrows, "Can I skip?"

You shake your head, "No way, Golbach. Spill it or.." You smirk, "Take three shots." He presses his lips together and tilts his head back, looking down his nose at you, "Gimme the bottle, baby."

You bite your lip as you reach for the bottle, sliding it across the table to stop in front of him.

He pours a shot, takes it. Then another, then the third and final shot, "Now what?" He leans in, "Are you going to tell me yours?"

Your eyes move from his lips to his eyes, "What if I say no?" You bite your lip and he shrugs, raising his eyebrows, "You tell me."

You back away from each other as Colby comes down the steps, "You're playing without me? Thanks for the invite I guess."

You roll onto your other side, trying to escape them, but you just can't.

"Whatcha doin?" Sam asks waking into the kitchen. You smile as you continue to scrub the glass dish, "Dishes."

"You know we have a dishwasher, right?" He laughs and you look over at him, "Not everything is dishwasher safe, Sam."

"I'm just saying.. nothing has broken on me.. yet." He laughs and walks up behind you, "Watcha listenin' to?"

You laugh, "Music."

You feel him walk up behind you and your scrubbing gradually slows down, "Why don't you take a break, I'm sure you've done enough damage on that dish, and dance with me."

You set the dish down and look at him over your shoulder, "What?"

He grabs your waist, spinning you around, "You heard me." He smiles and takes your bubble covered hand into his, his other hand still on your hip.

He pulls you a step out away from the sink and pulls you along with him. He laughs as he steps back, sliding his other hand into hours and you lift your arms, laughing as he spins you around.

He pulls you into his chest and wraps his arms around your neck, "You know, you're fun to hang out with."

You sob into your pillow, angry at Sam all over again.

Your phone dings, and you assume that it's probably just Colby, giving you hourly updates on how their investigation is going.

You lift your head, picking up your phone when it chimes again.

Sam: I'm sorry

You force out a laugh, trying not to cry, "Don't do this." You close your eyes, "I can't." You whisper, clearing his message from your Home Screen.

You sit up, looking around at your half packed room.

You wanted to be out by the time they got back, you told Colby you were leaving, you also told him not to tell Sam.

As you stand up, throwing things into a box, your phone dings, and then a few more times, and you groan, "I swear to.. fuck." You groan, leaning down to grab it, eyes watering at each message you read.

Sam: I want you so much. You're all I fucking think about. please. Talk to me. I need to I don't know, explain my self I guess? I wasn't ready I didn't think I was ready to actually settle down and I know that's what you want or wanted with me Y/n Please don't just read these

An incoming call from Colby interrupts your stare at the texts that are still coming through, "Hello?"

"Please don't kill him." Colby says frantic on the other end of the phone. You furrow your brows, sniffling, obvious that you've been doing nothing but crying, "What are you-"

There's banging on the front door.

Loud, repetitive, non stop banging.

"What's fucking happening?" You pull your phone away from your ear, seeing Sam's texts,

Open the door I left everything in Italy

You put the phone back up to your ear, "Why is he here"

Colby sighs, "Just talk to him."

"No." You snap and Colby talks immediately, "Look, y/n. Neither one of us can do this investigation. We have to convince the people who own this to reschedule our visit. Sam couldn't keep it together for the intro."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Now please." He sighs, "Just go. Open. The door."

"Fine." You hang up, making your way down the steps. You move the curtain on the door and look out at a soaking wet Sam.

"Please." His words are muffled from the door being shut, but you can still tell what he's saying, "I love you."

You clench your jaw, unlocking the door and opening it, "Where was that before all of this?" You step out side the door, the pouring rain coming down onto you now, "do you know how painful it was to have feelings for someone you can't be with?"

"Y/n." Sam shrugs, lifting his hands from his sides, but you keep going, "Do you know how many times, I've wished for you to not be in love with someone else? Then you go and hang out with a girl at a place you took me to first?"

"I'm sorry." His voice cracks, "Just please.. let-"

"I was jealous that night Sam, the night you asked me to play nice with your new girlfriend, Laylah. I was so fucking jealous Sam. But do you know how fucking stupid I felt? Being jealous over someone that wasn't even mine?"

He nods and you scoff, "I don't think you do because if you would have asked me to be yours, I would have said yes in a fucking heartbeat and don't even come back with the you should have asked me, because I know damn well that you could tell I loved you, Colby even picked up on it before you did."

Sam stands there, staring at you, eyes red from crying.

Hair dripping wet from the rain, you can't judge him because you look the same way.

"We're almost the literal definition of he likes her, she likes him. It's obvious to everyone except them.. but the only difference is, I knew what I wanted. I wanted you and all you did was lead me on."

Tears mix in with the beads of rain that form on your cheeks, your voice breaking, "It shouldn't have come to this, Sam."

You stand still as he walks up to you, "Y/n."

"It.." you sniffle, "It feels like you destroyed me, Sam."

"Let me fix it." He mumbles as he slides his hands over your cheeks, tilting your head up so you can look at him, "Please." He rests his forehead against yours, "Let me fix it."

"There's nothing-"

He cuts you off, "Don't say there's nothing to do. Because there's everything to do."

You sob quietly, his hands still on your cheeks. His thumbs brush gently over your wet skin, "I called whatever it was off with Laylah the night we got into it. The night you left me."

Your eyes meet his, "Why."

"Because I knew that my forever was walking out that door and I knew I had to do everything in my power to get it back." He sniffles, "You've supported me since day one. You've loved me.. since day one."

"Why now, Sam? Why after you flew all the way to Italy? Why after it took me telling Colby I was done with everything? It shouldn't have come to this."

He doesn't say anything, the rain smacking against the pavement fills your ears.

You reach up, grabbing his wrists to pull them away but he presses his lips to yours.

As much as you want to pull away, you can't.

"Sam." You slide your hands around his neck, lips moving with his as he slides his hands down to pull your hips against his.

"Please." He whispers, sniffling as he gently brushes his nose again your cheek, "Y/n."

You stay silent, the only sound that comes from you is a few sniffles.

"I can't do anything without you." Sam wipes your cheeks with his thumbs, "I wish I knew how stupid I was being. I tried to push you away because I didn't want to hurt you. I wasn't ready, but y/n, sweetheart, the risk of you walking out of my life forever has made me realize that I want you. I want you in so many ways, it's actually kind of insane."

You look up at him, "It shouldn't have taken.. this.. for you to finally realize what you want, Sam."

He shakes his head, "I won't ever let it get to that point ever again, because you're mine." He lifts you up, your legs hugging his waist like they've always dreamed of doing.

Your arms snake around his neck, not saying another word as he walks through the door, kicking it closed, "I promise."

You lean in, hugging him as he walks over to the couch. He sits down and you moving your legs to straddle his lap.

You lean back, hands sliding around his neck to cup his wet cheeks. Your eyes move around his face, back and forth between his eyes before you lean in, pressing your lips to his.

The heat you have always dreamed up, felt every time your eyes met his, is there.

And it's hotter than ever.

"I love you." Sam whimpers against your lips, "I'm so sorry."

You shake your head, "We can talk later. Right now.. I just.." you rest your forehead against his, "Wanna be with you."

He nods, sweeping your body over to lay under his. His lips kiss from your him, down your neck, "I wish.. I knew how to love you like this before."

You run a hand through his hair, unsure of what to say. He kisses back up to your lips, "Do you want to do this?"

You nod, tugging at his shirt, "Please."

He leans up, pulling his soaked shirt up over his body and tossing it onto the floor. You sit up and he does the same to your shirt, "You're so fucking beautiful."

His lips reconnect to yours and you moan quietly as he slowly grinds against you. He kisses back to your ear, his voice quiet, almost sounding like it's going to break, "You were the only girl I could ever think about."

Your eyes start to burn and you turn your head, reaching up to grab his so you can turn it towards you and kiss you.

The kiss is hot. Full of passion.

It's what you wanted all along.

He slides his hands down, slipping them into your rain soaked sweatpants. He pulls them down your legs, and reaches for the button on his pants, popping them open as he leans back down to kiss you.

He stands up, discarding his wet jeans to the floor before hovering his body back over yours.

He pushes his boxers down, just enough for his cock to spring free and he slips your panties to the side. Not wasting another second, he drops his head to your shoulder as he slowly slips his cock into you, burying it deep inside with a groan.

You gasp, clinging to him as you tighten your legs around his waist, breathing out a whiney, "Sam."

His nose brushes against your cheek as he lifts his head, "I love you, I'm so sorry." He pulls out, slowly thrusting back in, "I'm so sorry."

You wrap your arms around his neck, gasping with each thrust into you, "I love you." Your voice breaks, a small moan following after, "I've always loved you."

"I wish I knew I could have loved you like this." He kisses down your neck and back up, groaning lowly in your ear, "I wish I knew what I was risking."

You squeeze your eyes shut, a tear slipping down and falling down your cheek, "Don't ever.." you tangle your fingers in his hair, "Don't ever leave."

"Never." He pulls one of your hands down, interlocking it with his against your head as he lifts his to look at you, "I love you. No one could ever take your place."

You smile slightly and nod, "I'm holding you to it."

"As long as you need, baby." Sam smiles and sighs, "You were made for me." He kisses your lips, groaning against them as he thrusts harder but still slow.

You drag your nails up his back, moaning as he moves his head down to suck a mark into your neck.

His grip on your hand tightens, "I love you so fucking much."

You weren't ever going to get sick of hearing that.

You were relieved to finally be hearing it in the first place.

"I love you." You whisper, moaning as he lets go of your hand to bring it down to squeeze your boob. You tug his hair, arching your back as much as you can against his, "S-Sam."

"Cum with me, babe. Can you hold it?" He rests his forehead against yours as his fingers twist your nipple between his fingers.

You whimper, giving his a slight nod and he hums in response, "Almost there, sweetheart."

He thrusts a few moments longer before he kisses your cheek a few times, "Okay, okay, let go for me. Cum for me." His voice is quiet and his thrusts slow down as he feels you clench around him.

You let out a loud moan, pulling him into you as your nails dig into his skin.

He groans, pulling you closer by the hips, "F-fuck, fuck." He pulls out, letting his cum spill onto your lower stomach with a low moan.

You rest your head back, breathing heavy as your body relaxes.

He reaches down, grabbing his damp shirt and wiping you off. He tosses it down and holds his hand out, "Come here."

He pulls you to a sitting position and you immediately fall into him. He wraps his arms around you and hugs you tightly, "I'm sorry it took me this long to realize."

"Better late than never, right?" You look up at him and he nods, "I guess." He smiles, pressing his lips to your forehead, "Go get a shower, standing out in the rain might get you sick."

"Only if you'll come with me. I'm not doing anything without you for a while."

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Genuinely sorry if this sucked. I'm not sure how I feel about it, honestly. So tell me how you liked it.

As always, thanks for reading & I love you!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated 🖤

461 notes · View notes

mononijikayu · 4 months ago

Text

casual — geto suguru.

You nodded, trying to keep your expression neutral. "Yeah, it was nice. Just, you know, casual." "Right, casual. I know, doll." Suguru echoed, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer before he looked away. "No strings attached." "Exactly, yeah…." you said, forcing a smile. "We're both busy, and this doesn't have to mean anything more than... what it was." "Yeah." he said, his voice a bit quieter. "Just a one-time thing. No need to complicate things."

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: Angst, Unrequited Love, Romance, Casual Friends with Benefit, Falling In Love, Lack of Communication, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Food, Disassociation, Smut, Depiction of Sexual Intercourse, Depiction of Depression, Depiction of Food Withdrawal, Depiction of Disassociation;

WORDS: 6k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this took me awhile to write and i wish it didn't but i was busy trying to help my brother heal up from his own fever and then i also felt unwell after going out and visiting my cousins. crazy week so far, but i'm glad to be writing again!!! i'll be publishing pasilyo tomorrow!!! i hope you enjoy this and see you soon <3

══════════════════

YOU HATE THIS APARTMENT. You know you picked it out. You went through the painstaking process of finding the best you could afford in all of Tokyo, sifting through countless listings, visiting countless open houses, and scrutinizing every detail with a critical eye. You even reached out to Nanami, seeking his advice on how he had found his own place, hoping his insight would guide you to something perfect.

But now, standing in the middle of the empty apartment, it just feels overwhelming. The walls seem to close in around you, their pristine surfaces a harsh reminder of the solitude that awaits you. The space, while objectively beautiful and well-chosen, feels alien and unwelcoming. The soft, neutral colors and high-end finishes that once seemed so appealing now appear cold and impersonal, like a display in a showroom rather than a home.

Each corner, every room, is meticulously arranged, yet it all feels distant, disconnected. The furniture you carefully selected—elegant, stylish pieces that should have brought comfort—now feels like mere props in a stage set, lacking the warmth and familiarity of a true home. The shelves stand empty, the walls bare, and the lack of personal touches only amplifies the feeling of displacement.

You had envisioned this place as a haven, a refuge where you could build a new chapter of your life. Yet now, it feels like a stark reminder of everything you’ve lost, of the gaping void left by Suguru’s absence and the weight of the decisions that brought you here. The reality of living alone in such a polished, empty space contrasts sharply with the vibrant, chaotic life you once had, and the dissonance is almost too much to bear.

The once-anticipated comfort of the apartment now feels like a cage, trapping you in a space that reflects the isolation and emotional distance you’re struggling to overcome. You try to imagine filling the space with personal belongings, with memories that would make it truly yours, but the task feels daunting, almost insurmountable. Each step you take feels heavy, burdened by the weight of unfulfilled expectations and the deep, pervasive sadness that lingers in every corner of this new, unwelcoming environment.

Since Haibara died and Suguru defected, the world has felt irreparably altered. Their absence has left a void not just in your life but in the very fabric of the world you once knew. Their departures were seismic shifts, upheavals that have reshaped everything—your sense of security, your understanding of your place in the world, and the very essence of who you are. The bonds you once relied on have frayed, the connections you took for granted have been severed, and you are left grappling with a reality that seems both unfamiliar and unkind.

The change is not just in the external world but within yourself. The person you were before all these events feels like a distant memory, replaced by someone who struggles to find meaning and connection in the aftermath of loss and betrayal. How could you not change when everything around you has been transformed so drastically? The world has moved on, and you are left to navigate its new contours alone.

People are worried about you. The concern is palpable, especially from Gojo Satoru, who has always been like a brother to you, a constant in a world that has become increasingly unpredictable. His worry is perhaps the most poignant, reflecting the deep bond you share and the impact of your struggles on those who care about you. His concern is a reminder that while you feel isolated, there are still people who want to help, who see the pain you’re enduring, and who are willing to support you even as you grapple with the overwhelming weight of your new reality.

He’d been trying to reach you for weeks, his calls and messages a persistent thread in the silence of your days. Each notification from Gojo felt like a distant echo, a reminder of the world outside the narrow confines of your apartment. Yet, each time you saw his name on your screen, you hesitated, unable to muster the energy to respond. The weight of the past was a constant companion, keeping you awake through endless nights.

The dreams, when they came, were a cruel mockery of the life you once knew. Each night was filled with hauntingly vivid memories of better times with Suguru—laughter shared in quiet moments, his touch, and the warmth of his presence that now felt like an elusive phantom. The contrast between those dreams and the stark reality of your waking life was almost too much to bear.

Food, once a source of comfort and nourishment, had become a meaningless necessity. The meals you prepared, though carefully chosen, lay untouched on the counter. Their taste had lost all appeal, a reflection of the emptiness that now colored every aspect of your existence. Eating had become a mere act of survival, a stark reminder of the joy that had been stripped away.

The outside world, with its bustling streets and vibrant energy, felt distant, almost foreign. Tokyo’s vibrant chaos seemed to exist in a different realm, one that you could observe but not truly engage with. The city that once felt like a living, breathing entity now felt like a backdrop to your solitary struggle, its noise and activity a harsh contrast to the silence of your own life.

It was on one of these evenings, shrouded in solitude, that Gojo finally appeared at your door. His concern was palpable, a stark reminder of how far you’d retreated from those who cared about you. When you opened the door, he stood there, his face a mixture of frustration and worry.

“I’ve been calling you for weeks.” he said, his voice heavy with concern. “Are you okay? I haven’t heard from you in ages.”

You tried to muster a smile, but it fell short, your exhaustion too profound to conceal. “Oh, Gojo. I didn’t expect you.”

He stepped inside, his eyes quickly taking in the state of your apartment. The neatness of the space did nothing to hide the emptiness that pervaded it. “You don’t look well.” he said, his cerulean gaze moving to the cold meal on the counter. “I’ve been worried. What’s going on?”

You shrugged, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. “It’s nothing. Just... struggling, I guess. Food doesn’t taste right anymore.”

Gojo moved closer to the counter, his eyes scanning the untouched food. “This isn’t just about food. You need to take care of yourself. When was the last time you had a decent meal? When was the last time you really slept?”

You looked away, your voice trembling as you tried to suppress the tears. “I don’t sleep much. When I do, it’s filled with dreams of Suguru. It’s like he’s everywhere, but also nowhere.”

His expression softened, a flicker of empathy in his eyes. “I get it. You’re missing him. But you can’t let it consume you. You need to find a way to move forward.”

You shook your head, the enormity of the situation pressing down on you. “It’s not that simple. The outside world feels so distant now, almost foreign. I’m just... lost.”

Gojo’s hand gently rested on your shoulder, his touch a grounding presence. “I know…But you can’t do this. He…he wouldn’t want this either.”

You knew that. But you felt a pang of guilt as you tried to reassure Satoru about your well-being. The effort to project a sense of normalcy, to offer him even a glimmer of hope that things might improve, weighed heavily on you. You knew that your struggles were far from over, and while you didn’t want to burden him with the full extent of your despair, the pretense felt like a delicate dance on the edge of honesty.

Because you don’t know how he does it. How he keeps himself from going insane. You wished you did. You wished you could be him. Because you’re exhausted. You wanted to move on. You wanted to be free. But still, you’re here in this cage of grief, living like this. Being in pain. Being empty.

Your graduation, which should have been a moment of triumph, was marred by his absence. The empty chair next to you was a constant reminder of what you’d lost. Now, in the stillness of your apartment, the silence is deafening. The memories of laughter and shared dreams haunt you, and the loneliness seeps into your bones.

You can’t help but wonder where he is, what he’s doing, if he ever thinks of you too. Suguru’s defection was more than just a betrayal; it was a fracture, a deep wound that hasn’t healed. And as you sit in the vast emptiness of your apartment, you wonder if it ever will.

Back when you lived in Jujutsu High's dorms, life was different. Shoko would pop by unannounced, always ready to share the latest gossip, her presence a comforting constant. Those moments of laughter and whispered secrets felt like a lifetime ago. Back then, you had Digimon show nights with Satoru, the two of you arguing over favorite characters and plot twists, the banter and camaraderie a soothing balm to the stresses of your training.

And then there were those cold nights when you needed warmth, and Suguru Geto was there. His presence was a refuge, his arms a sanctuary. The conversations you'd have, the plans you'd make for the future, they were all wrapped in a cocoon of shared understanding and affection. His departure left a gaping hole, one that you haven't been able to fill.

Now, you are all alone. Anyone is, with your one’s grief. And now you truly are, separated from everyone else. The silence is oppressive, the loneliness a constant companion. The walls of your new apartment seem to close in on you, a stark reminder of what you once had and what you've lost. The memories of Shoko's gossip, Satoru's laughter, and Suguru's warmth are ghosts that haunt you, their absence a painful reminder of the life you once knew.

In the stillness of the night, you sometimes catch yourself hoping for a knock on the door, for Suguru to walk in with that familiar smile, as if everything could go back to the way it was. But reality is harsh, and you know that those days are gone. All you have now are the memories and the lingering hope that somehow, someday, things might change.

Geto Suguru left without saying anything, that day he went on his mission. He was supposed to be back in a day or two—at least that’s what he said during the phone call you shared when he was on that train. His voice, calm and reassuring, echoed in your mind long after the call ended. But that was the last time you heard his voice. The last time he called you. It was him getting off your seesaw game, finally stepping out of your world and leaving you with nothing but a broken heart.

And yet, he was never your boyfriend. You and him kept up the pretense, a delicate dance of closeness and distance, never truly naming what you had. The word "casual" was used way too much, a shield to protect fragile hearts from the vulnerability of the word "love." You remember the nights spent together, the conversations that felt like they meant something more, but neither of you dared to cross that line.

You often think back to that call, replaying every word, every nuance in his voice. It was supposed to be just another mission, nothing out of the ordinary. But something shifted, something changed, and Suguru never came back. His departure was like a cruel twist of fate, leaving you grappling with unanswered questions and unspoken feelings.

In the aftermath, you were left to navigate the wreckage alone. The routines you shared, the subtle intimacy of your connection, all shattered. The memories of his touch, his laugh, the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t watching—they haunt you, a bittersweet reminder of what could have been.

You’ve tried to move on, to piece together a semblance of normalcy, but the void Suguru left is vast and unrelenting. The "casual" facade you both maintained now feels like a cruel joke, the missed opportunities for something deeper, more meaningful, a constant source of regret. You wonder if he ever felt the same, if he ever wanted to bridge the gap between you, but the answers are lost to the silence he left behind.

The seesaw game you played, the delicate balance of give and take, is now a lonely ride. You’re left suspended in midair, longing for the weight of his presence to bring you back down. But all you have are memories and the lingering ache of a love that was never fully realized, a connection that was always just out of reach.

The room was quiet, the only sound was the soft hum of the city outside the window. You lay there, the sheets tangled around your legs, your mind spinning with a mix of emotions. Suguru was next to you, propped up on one elbow, his dark eyes watching you intently.

"That was... something." you finally said, breaking the silence.

Suguru chuckled softly, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Yeah, it was," he agreed. "Unexpected, but not unwelcome."

You nodded, trying to keep your expression neutral. "Yeah, it was nice. Just, you know, casual."

"Right, casual. I know, doll." Suguru echoed, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer before he looked away. "No strings attached."

"Exactly, yeah…." you said, forcing a smile. "We're both busy, and this doesn't have to mean anything more than... what it was."

"Yeah." he said, his voice a bit quieter. "Just a one-time thing. No need to complicate things."

You felt a pang in your chest but ignored it, keeping your tone light. "Right, no need to complicate things. We have enough going on with our missions and training."

"Absolutely, you’re right." Suguru said, but his purple eyes told a different story. There was a flicker of something deeper, something more, but it was quickly masked by a casual smile. "We're just two friends who had a good time."

"Exactly." you repeated, wishing you could believe it. "......Just two friends."

Suguru reached out, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I don't want this to change anything between us, doll." he said softly. "I value what we have."

You nodded, your heart pounding. "Me too. This doesn't have to change anything."

He smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Good. I'm glad we agree."

You both lay there for a moment longer, the weight of unspoken words hanging between you. Finally, Suguru sighed and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. "So, breakfast?"

You laughed, the tension breaking slightly. "Yeah, breakfast sounds good."

You felt like crying again, and you hated it. You hated yourself for it. Because there was nothing between you and Suguru. You were casual. It’s been a year, and there was nothing after that. He left you. He chose his path. He chose to burn the world to free himself from torment. But now, you are in torment.

You sat on the edge of your bed, the weight of the silence pressing down on you. The memories of that night haunted you, the way he had looked at you, the way his touch had set your skin on fire. It was casual. Just a one-time thing. That’s what you told yourself, what you both agreed on. But the lie felt like a knife twisting in your gut now.

Suguru had left, and with him, he took the future you had secretly hoped for. You were in love with him. You didn’t want anything to be casual with him. You didn’t want it to be nothing. You wanted more, so much more, and now you knew you would never get anything.

The tears threatened to spill over, and you clenched your fists, trying to hold them back. You hated how weak you felt, how vulnerable. The world moved on, but you were stuck, trapped in a web of your own making. Suguru’s absence was a constant ache, a reminder of what you had lost, what you could never have.

He chose his path, and it led him away from you. It led him to destruction, to a darkness that swallowed him whole. And now, you were left to pick up the pieces of your shattered heart, alone in the vast emptiness of your new apartment. The echoes of your own thoughts were deafening, and the realization that you would never see him again, never hear his voice, never feel his touch—it was almost too much to bear.

You buried your face in your hands, the tears finally escaping, hot and bitter. The sobs wracked your body, each one a painful reminder of your unspoken feelings. You had wanted so much more, but you had been too afraid to ask, too afraid to risk the fragile balance you had. And now, it was too late.

Suguru was gone, and with him, any chance of something more. You were left with memories and regrets, with the knowledge that he had chosen his path, and you were not a part of it. The torment of unrequited love consumed you, a relentless ache that you couldn’t escape. You cried for what was, for what could have been, and for the future that would never be.

There was a strange stillness in the air, a quiet that felt almost suffocating. It felt different tonight. You sat on the edge of your bed, staring blankly at the wall, your thoughts a tangled mess of memories and regrets. The knock on your door was so soft, you almost didn't hear it. For a moment, you thought you had imagined it, but then it came again, more insistent this time.

You wiped your eyes, forcing yourself to stand. Each step toward the door felt like walking through quicksand, your heart pounding in your chest. You weren't expecting anyone. As you reached for the doorknob, a part of you wondered if you were dreaming, if the grief had finally driven you mad.

You opened the door slowly, the hinges creaking in protest. And there he was. Geto Suguru stood in the doorway, looking every bit as if you remembered him, but different somehow. His eyes held a depth of sadness, a haunted look that mirrored your own. He seemed exhausted. As much as you, you think. But you say nothing for a few moments. You just stare at him, as though trying to be sure you weren’t hallucinating.

"Suguru?" Your voice was barely a whisper, the word catching in your throat.

He gave you a small, almost hesitant smile. "Hey."

"What are you doing here?" you asked, your voice trembling with emotions. “Why—”

"I needed to see you, doll." he said softly. "I just had to see you tonight….will you let me in?”

You don’t know how he found out your address. Or how he was able to know which apartment block yours was. But you didn’t say anything. You didn’t want to force anything tonight. You nodded and stepped back, allowing him to enter. The silence between you was heavy, filled with all the words that had been left unsaid. You closed the door and turned to face him, your heart aching with a mix of hope and fear.

"Why now?" you asked, your eyes searching for him. “Why come back to me now? I….I’m not…”

He looks at you, almost longingly. “I don’t know.”

The weight of Suguru's confession hung in the air, but before you could process it, he spoke again, breaking the silence. "I know this is unexpected. I know I don't have the right to just show up here like this, but I need to talk to you.”

You stepped back, the doorway now feeling like a chasm between you. "Suguru, this is a bad idea. You shouldn’t be—”

He took a hesitant step inside, his presence filling the space. "I just want to talk. Please."

The room felt smaller, more suffocating, with him in it. The tension was palpable, a fragile thread that could snap at any moment. He glanced around the room, his eyes lingering on familiar objects—things that hadn't changed since he left. Things he wished wouldn't change. From the corner of his eye, he could see it. That uniform button he left behind. He purses his lips.

"How are you?" he asked, his voice low and careful.

You crossed your arms, trying to hold yourself together. "How do you think I am, Suguru? There's an order to kill you on the spot. If people find out you're here with me, the higher ups will get me.”

He flinched at your words, a shadow passing over his face. "I know the risks. I wouldn't have come if I didn't think it was important."

You shook your head, frustration and fear mingling in your chest. "Important? You think this is important? You left, Suguru. You choose your path, and it has nothing to do with me. Now you show up out of nowhere, and you want to talk?"

"I had to." he said, his voice almost pleading. "I've made so many mistakes, but leaving you was the worst one. I had to see you, to tell you how I feel."

Your heart ached at his words, but the reality of the situation loomed large. "And what do you expect me to do with that information? Do you want me to just forgive and forget? To pretend like everything's fine when it's not?"

He took another step closer, his eyes searching yours. "I don't expect anything. I just needed you to know. I needed to try and make things right."

You looked away, the emotions swirling inside you too much to bear. "Suguru, you don't understand. It's not just about us. If they find out you're here, they'll kill you. And I'll be branded a traitor."

He nodded slowly, understanding the gravity of your words. "I know. And I'm sorry for putting you in this position. But I couldn't stay away. Not anymore."

The room was thick with tension, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on you both. You wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap between you, but the fear of the consequences held you back.

"I don't know what to do." you admitted, your voice breaking. "I don't know how…I don’t know how to handle this."

Suguru stepped closer, his hand hovering near yours. "You don't have to do anything. Just let me be here, even if it's just for a little while. Let me be with you."

You looked up at him, the pain and regret in his eyes mirroring your own. The risk was enormous, but the pull of your heart was stronger. For a moment, you allowed yourself to imagine that things could be different, that maybe, somehow, you could find a way through this together.

But reality crashed back down, harsh and unyielding. "Suguru, this can't last. You know that."

He nodded, his expression filled with sorrow. "I know. But for now, can we just..."

You took a deep breath, the conflict tearing you apart. "Okay. For now."

Suguru’s eyes softened at your words, relief washing over his features. The air between you was thick with unspoken emotions, the tension palpable. You could feel your resolve wavering, the walls you had built around your heart crumbling with every passing second.

He took another step closer, closing the distance between you. His hand reached out, gently brushing against yours. The touch was electric, sending a shiver down your spine. You looked up at him, your breath catching in your throat as his gaze held yours.

“For now.” he repeated softly, his voice filled with a mixture of hope and longing.

You couldn’t hold back any longer. The months of separation, the endless nights of aching for him, all came crashing down in that moment. You closed the gap between you, your lips finding his in a desperate, hungry kiss.

Suguru responded instantly, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer. The kiss was intense, filled with all the emotions you had both kept bottled up for so long. It was as if you were trying to make up for lost time, to pour all your love and longing into that single, searing connection.

Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, needing to feel him, to assure yourself that he was really there. Suguru’s hands roamed over your back, his touch igniting a fire within you. The kiss deepened, growing more fervent, more desperate. You broke the kiss just long enough to catch your breath, your foreheads resting against each other. The intensity of your emotions left you both breathless, but neither of you pulled away.

“Suguru.” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of everything you felt.

“I know.” he murmured, his breath warm against your lips. “I know.”

You kissed him again, this time even more passionately, your need for him overwhelming any lingering doubts. His hands slid under your shirt, his touch sending sparks of electricity through your body. You gasped against his lips, your body responding to him in ways you had tried to forget.

The world outside ceased to exist, the only thing that mattered was Suguru. Being here with you. The kiss grew more intense, a fierce clash of lips and tongues, as if you were both trying to make up for the lost time, for all the moments you had been apart.

Suguru’s hands moved to your waist, lifting you effortlessly and guiding you toward the bed. You didn’t resist, your body craving his touch, his closeness. As he laid you down gently, his lips never leaving yours, you felt a sense of rightness, a feeling that this was where you were meant to be.

His body pressed against yours, the heat between you growing more intense. Every touch, every kiss, was a reminder of what you had lost and found again. Your hands roamed over his back, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him.

“Suguru.” you whispered, your voice filled with a mixture of need and desperation.

He responded with a soft groan, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “I’ve missed you so much, doll.” he murmured against your skin. “Too much…”

You arched into his touch, your body responding to him in ways you had almost forgotten. The intensity of your desire for him was overwhelming, a force you couldn’t control. You pulled him back up, capturing his lips in another searing kiss.

As the kiss deepened, the intensity grew, the passion between you igniting like a wildfire. And for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to hope, to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something more.

The walls themselves felt like they were closing in, drawn tighter by the charged energy of the moment. The temperature seemed to rise with every movement, the warmth of your bodies pressed together creating a cocoon of intimacy and passion.

You moaned against the kiss, feeling his hand around the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. He was always so good at making you defenseless when it came to him. When it came to Suguru, you surrendered without a fight.

His lips trailed down your jawline, planting heated kisses along the sensitive skin of your neck. Each touch sent shivers down your spine, your body arching into him, craving more. His other hand roamed over your back, his touch firm yet gentle, as if he were memorizing every inch of you.

"You have no idea how much I've missed this." he whispered against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing. “How much I missed you.”

You could barely form words, your mind clouded with desire. "S–suguru…." you breathed, your voice trembling with need.

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his own gaze dark with intensity. "Say it, doll." he urged, his voice a low, husky command. “Use your words.”

"Suguru, please." you repeated, feeling the heat of his name on your lips, the weight of it in the air between you. “I need you.”

A satisfied smile curved his lips before he kissed you again, deeper this time, his tongue exploring your mouth with a fierce, possessive hunger. You responded eagerly, your hands clutching at his shoulders, pulling him closer, needing to feel him, to lose yourself in him.

His hand slid down from your neck to the small of your back, pulling you against him, your bodies fitting together perfectly. The sensation was almost overwhelming, a mix of intense pleasure and deep, unfulfilled longing. Your heart pounded in your chest, the sound echoing in your ears, drowning out any remaining doubts.

As the kiss grew more fervent, more desperate, you felt yourself melting into him, your defenses crumbling with every touch, every caress. Suguru had always had this effect on you, this ability to make you forget everything else, to make you feel like you were the only two people in the world.

"I missed you." you whispered against his lips, the confession slipping out before you could stop it.

He groaned in response, his hand sliding up under your shirt, his touch searing against your skin. "I missed you too, doll." he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "More than you know."

As he continued to kiss you, his hands exploring your body with a reverence that made your heart ache, you realized that no matter what happened next, no matter the consequences, this moment was worth it. Being with Suguru, feeling his love, his desire, his need—it was everything you had ever wanted, everything you had been missing.

And in that instant, you knew you would face any danger, any threat, just to keep him here with you, to hold onto this feeling for as long as you could. Because when it came to Suguru, you were willing to surrender without a fight.

The heat between you was almost unbearable, the intensity of your desire for Suguru consuming you. His hands continued their exploration, each touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. You could feel his need, his desperation, mirrored in your own.

"Suguru…" you whispered again, your voice a mix of longing and urgency.

He responded with a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, tasting, exploring. Your hands roamed over his back, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him against you. The sensation of his body pressed against yours was intoxicating, driving you to the brink of madness.

His hand slid under your shirt, his fingers tracing a path up your spine, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips as he reached the clasp of your bra, deftly undoing it. The feeling of his hands on your bare skin was electric, every nerve ending alive with sensation.

"You feel so good, doll." he murmured against your lips, his voice husky with desire.

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body responding instinctively. You tugged at his shirt, needing to feel his skin against yours. He helped you, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside, revealing the toned muscles of his chest and abdomen.

You ran your hands over his chest, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your touch. He groaned softly, his hands moving to your hips, pulling you closer. The feel of his arousal against your thigh sent a surge of desire through you, your need for him growing more intense with every passing second.

He lifted your shirt over your head, his eyes darkened with lust as he took in the sight of you. "You're beautiful." he said, his voice filled with admiration.

You blushed under his gaze, feeling a mix of shyness and exhilaration. "Suguru." you breathed, reaching for him.

He kissed you again, hungrier than before. You could feel his hands sliding down to your jeans, unbuttoning them with practiced ease. You helped him, pushing the fabric down your hips, kicking them off along with your underwear. The cool air against your skin was a stark contrast to the heat between you, heightening your senses.

Suguru's eyes roamed over your body, his expression one of reverence and hunger. He reached for you, his hands gentle yet firm as he guided you back onto the bed. You lay there, your heart pounding, as he stripped off the rest of his clothes, revealing the full extent of his arousal.

He climbed onto the bed, his body hovering over yours, the heat of his skin radiating against you. He kissed you again, his lips trailing down your neck, your collarbone, his hands exploring every inch of you. The sensation was almost overwhelming, your body arching into his touch, craving more.

"I need you." he whispered against your skin, his voice filled with urgency.

"Then take me." you replied, your voice trembling with anticipation.

He positioned himself between your legs, his hands gripping your hips as he slowly entered you. The sensation was exquisite, a mix of pleasure and pain that left you gasping, your body adjusting to the fullness of him.

"So deep, Su…." you moaned, your hands clutching at his back, your nails digging into his skin.

He moved slowly at first, his strokes deep and measured, his eyes locked onto yours. The intensity of his gaze, the connection between you, was almost too much to bear. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him on.

He responded with a groan, his pace quickening, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. You moved together in perfect rhythm, your bodies melding into one, the world outside fading away.

Every touch, every kiss, every movement—each a story of love and desire you felt for each other. The intensity built with each passing second, your moans mingling with his, the sound of your bodies coming together filling the room.

"S–suguru!" you gasped, feeling the tension building, the climax approaching. “I….I’m close!”

He kissed you deeply, his movements becoming more frantic, more desperate. "I love you, doll." he whispered against your lips, his voice raw with emotion. “More than you know.”

The words sent you over the edge, your body convulsing with pleasure, your vision blurring as the orgasm washed over you. Suguru followed moments later, releasing a powerful, shuddering wave that left him breathless, his body collapsing against yours.

You lay there together, your bodies intertwined, the aftermath of your lovemaking leaving you both spent and sated. For a moment, the world was perfect, the dangers and fears forgotten. In that moment, all that mattered was the love you shared, the connection that bound you together.

Suguru propped himself up on one elbow, his gaze tender as he looked down at you. You turned to face him, your eyes heavy with a mixture of satisfaction and lingering emotions. He stroked your hair gently, his touch soothing.

"I know I’ve been gone for a long time.”

“You have.”

“I’m sorry for leaving you without any explanation." He whispered to you. “For making you suffer.”

You sighed, closing your eyes as you listened to his words. "It’s been really hard. I didn’t know if you were ever coming back. And when you did… it was like opening old wounds all over again."

Suguru’s fingers traced patterns on your back, his touch calming. "I understand. I’ve had time to think about everything, and I realize now how much I hurt you. I didn’t mean to. But I needed to see you, to try to make things right, even if I’m not sure how."

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with a mix of sadness and hope. "What do you want from me, Suguru? What do we do now?"

He took a deep breath, his expression serious. "I don’t expect things to go back to how they were before. I just want to be honest with you.”

The sincerity in his voice touched something deep inside you. You took his hand, squeezing it gently. "You’re someone dear to me, Suguru. You always will be.”

You could see how painfully beautiful his smile was. And just as much, how easily he started to grieve this moment. “I know.”

You snuggled closer to him, your body seeking the warmth and comfort of his embrace. As the weight of the conversation and the exhaustion from the emotional rollercoaster began to take their toll, you felt yourself growing drowsy.

Suguru’s arms tightened around you, his presence a soothing balm to your restless heart. "You should get some rest," he murmured, his voice gentle. "I’ll be here until you fall asleep."

You nodded, your eyes fluttering shut as the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat lulled you into a peaceful slumber. The feeling of his body pressed against yours, the gentle caress of his hand on your back, was all you needed to drift off.

When you awoke, it was to the soft, hesitant brush of Suguru’s lips against yours. You stirred, your eyes blinking open to find him gazing at you with a mixture of sadness and affection.

“I have to go, doll,” Suguru said quietly, his voice filled with regret. “But I’ll be thinking of you. Always. Wherever I go, wherever I am. I’ll only love you. Only you.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, each syllable resonating deep within you. You wanted to respond, to find the right words to express how much his declaration meant to you, but the lump in your throat made it difficult to speak.

Instead, you simply reached out, your hand finding his, holding it tightly as if trying to anchor him to this moment. His fingers intertwined with yours, and for a brief second, you found solace in the connection, the warmth of his touch providing a bittersweet comfort.

Suguru leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering as if trying to imprint the memory of your skin on his own. His eyes met yours one last time, filled with an intensity that spoke of a deep and unspoken promise.

“Take care of yourself, doll.” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. “Live for me.”

You nodded, your eyes misting as you tried to hold back the tears. “I will. You too, Suguru. Be safe.

He kissed you one last time, a tender, lingering kiss that seemed to hold all the words left unspoken. His lips brushed against yours with a softness that belied the intensity of the emotions swirling between you. It was a kiss that conveyed both farewell and the depth of his feelings, a final, aching promise wrapped in the warmth of his touch.

As he pulled away, his eyes searched for yours, filled with a profound sadness that matched the heaviness in your heart. There was a moment where time seemed to stand still, where every second stretched into eternity. The look he gave you was a mixture of regret and deep affection, as if he were trying to imprint this final moment into his memory, to hold onto it even as he had to let go.

With a final, loving glance, he slowly rose from the bed, the movement reluctant and heavy. The contrast between the intimacy you had shared moments before and the distance growing between you now felt like a cruel irony. He began to dress, his actions slow and methodical, each movement a reminder of the separation that loomed ahead.

You watched him, feeling a hollow ache settle in your chest. The sight of him buttoning his shirt, pulling on his jacket, seemed to magnify the reality of his departure. Each piece of clothing he put on felt like a barrier, a wall being erected between you. The warmth of his touch was replaced by the cold distance of impending goodbye.

When he finally finished dressing, he paused by the door, turning back to you with one last, lingering look. His eyes were filled with a mixture of sorrow and determination, the kind of gaze that promised he would carry you with him, even as he walked away. The sight of him standing there, so close yet so far, was almost too much to bear.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and then slowly walked toward the door. Each step he took felt like a betrayal to the moment you had shared, each creak of the floorboards a painful reminder of the separation. As he reached the door, he turned to look at you one last time, his expression a final plea for you to understand.

“Goodbye, doll.” he said softly, his voice breaking slightly with the weight of his emotions.

With those final words, he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, leaving you alone in the room that now felt unbearably empty. The door closed behind him with a soft click, and the sound echoed in the silence that followed.

You sat there, feeling the overwhelming sense of loss, the weight of his absence pressing down on you. The room, once filled with the warmth of his presence, now felt cold and desolate. You reached out to the space he had occupied, your hand trembling as if trying to grasp at the remnants of his touch.

The tears finally came, streaming down your face in silent, aching sobs. The finality of his departure settled in, leaving you with the bittersweet memory of his touch, his kisses, and the love you had shared. As you buried your face in your hands, the pain of his absence was a stark reminder of the reality you had to face, the love that remained but was now out of reach.

You lay back down on the bed, the lingering warmth of his presence a bittersweet comfort. Yearning for what remained of him. The reality of his departure settled in, slowly. Tears kept falling and you couldn’t stop them. When you closed your eyes, all you could see was him.

You cried until you were too tired to do it. And as you drifted back to sleep, you held onto the memory of his touch, his kisses, and the promise that, despite everything, he would always be a part of your heart. He would always be your ghost. He would always haunt you, even when you’re old and gray — he would always be more than a casual memory. He’d always be the one that got away. And you knew….you were his too.

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